


Kitty, It's Cold Outside

by overworkedunderwhelmed



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Holiday Fic Exchange, LadyNoir - Freeform, Light Angst, LtWWS Secret Santa, Marichat, Mostly Season 3 Compliant, Mutual Pining, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overworkedunderwhelmed/pseuds/overworkedunderwhelmed
Summary: After all these years, Marinette was quite used to fixing all her problems in the red suit.  But when it came to masquerading as herself, it was only the prospect of going in without backup that left her a little nervous.But a great partner never really lets you go it alone...
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 744
Kudos: 718
Collections: Left To Write Secret Santa





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [randohopelessromantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randohopelessromantic/gifts).



> Randohopelessromantic, so I heard you like Love Square. I hope you enjoy your present!
> 
> Thanks to Kellarhi, Enberlight, and Bridgetinerabbit for input an beta reading and to Yunyin who also acted as a sounding board for some of the earliest ideas here.

Marinette let the rich hot chocolate trickle past her lips, savoring the little remaining warmth that lingered as she stepped into the tiny back office. Gloved fingers slipped up into her hair, brushing away the stray flakes of new-fallen snow that had dusted it on her sprint from the Metro to the front door of the department store.

The mug was already growing cold, but she didn’t have time to run out and refresh it. Not if she wanted to get this mending done ahead of her shift.

Fixing it wasn’t entirely necessary—it wasn’t like anyone else would really notice the tiny tear.

But _she_ would know. And since Alya had extolled the virtues of doing this job—mostly financial—she was going to do it right. Besides, she hadn’t come up with any better way to offset the cost of her growing trove of knits and fabrics for University classes and for as many gifts as she could manage to make before the holidays. Wrecking her only costume change seemed like a good way to lose her new job, as it could spoil the illusion.

There were little kids who’d be watching her, after all.

And there were few who knew better just how much little children looked up to her alter ego.

With a long sigh, and an equally heavy glance down at her bag, she muttered. “How do I _still_ keep getting myself into these things?”

Marinette shook her head. She thought she’d been so careful when she’d tried the costume on for the required rehearsal. Yet, thanks to her usual klutziness, it had managed to snag. 

It wouldn’t be a _stretch_ to think that Spandex could hardly hold a candle to her Kwami-based transformation. But still. 

She slumped down onto the bench, wincing with the noise she made as she set the mug down. Her fingers gripped the uneven woodgrain of the bench before reaching into one of the lockers from the slim row lining the wall. The only thing it contained was the hanger that held the fragile red fabric of her ‘uniform’.

Marinette worried her lip. The _sheer_ prospect of that very thin material being the only thing to truly keep her true identity safe… was troubling to say the least.

It didn’t help much that the fabric had actually torn while she’d been training with a young Human Resources intern not much older than herself. 

It had been going so well. She’d been so sure that most of her own challenge would come in tamping down the banter she was exchanging with her mock partner. But thankfully, it wasn’t a problem if her sharper wit should sneak out from time to time. 

She _was_ “playing”Ladybug, after all.

The easiest part would be helping out Santa Claus. She’d already done it once before… theoretically, at least…

But the real trick was yet to come. She’d have to play off of a new adversary: a Chat Noir she was entirely unused to. 

Setting a determined pace, she let her fingers fly, allowing the calluses and muscle memory—and a very careful bit of pinning—do most of the mental work for her.

* * *

Mending complete, Marinette tugged the snug-fitting fabric on with only a few minutes to spare before her shift would start. 

She glanced at her phone, noticing the notifications piling up from Alya. Messages she definitely wouldn’t have time to read. Exhaling heavily, she dialed Alya. 

“Marinette!” Alya’s face popped up on the screen. “Girl! I feel like I’m more panicked than you are!”

Marinette chuckled, fidgeting with the silky mask between her fingers. “I mean I wouldn’t say I’m _not_ panicked… but I did get to practice things first.”

Alya chuckled, arching a doubtful brow. “And you’re sticking to the script, huh?”

Marinette’s nose scrunched up, as she shifted her weight between her feet. “ _Well_ … I wouldn’t exactly say that. But I have been watching the footage you caught for years, so I can wing it pretty admirably. At least, the guy I was practicing with thought so…”

Alya shook her head. “Let me see the costume.”

Marinette blinked before panning the camera up and down her form. She still wasn’t quite ready to put the mask in place with Alya’s eagle eyes at the ready.

With a wolf-whistle, Alya winked. “I told you you’d be able to pull it off. I mean, heck, if Clara Nightingale could see it all those years ago, there’s no one else who should doubt you.”

Marinette smiled, ruefully. “Thanks for that.”

“I’m serious, though.” Alya tilted her head. “I immediately thought of you once I saw the advert in the store. I knew you wanted to pick up a little extra cash for the holidays, and retail isn’t exactly ideal. But I figured at least one of the ritzier department stores might give you a little clothing inspiration for next semester. It was only after I dug a little further into the offerings for Seasonal help that I _spotted_ the much better fit.”

Marinette groaned. They all had been listening to her partner for far too long.

“It will probably be a little less stressful,” Marinette grinned thinly. _Probably_. 

At least the store was guaranteed to let her have a break whenever Ladybug was called away to protect Paris. The store was absolutely invested in keeping up as much of the ruse as they could to appease the shoppers’ children.

“I’ll be honest. I was going to complain to the store’s marketing for failing to credit the Ladyblog for the idea after the whole debacle with Manon questioning why all the Christmas Displays were still using Elves after that one nasty Akumatization.”

As had become the usual in Paris—when floundering for answers that required some particularly... _magical_ solutions—the answer had been lifted straight off of the Ladyblog, from Alya’s own suggestion some months prior; Paris’s Heroes were _always_ there to save the day.

Of course, she had actually been so busy continuing to save Paris that she’d entirely forgotten about that Akuma—and Alya’s suggestion—because almost a year had gone by since that time. 

Marinette chuckled, fidgeting with her gloves with her free hand. The Fall of Hawkmoth—of Gabriel Agreste—had only opened the doors for other threats to come knocking and plague Paris. But Hawkmoth’s downfall came with some unexpected questions. It seemed that all of the children who had grown under his reign of terror had learned to question things—and loudly. Manon, just a little louder than most... 

“Oh… You know Manon,” she replied with a small smile, “No filter.”

Alya snorted, ruthlessly. “Especially not anywhere near a _live_ _camera_.” She quirked her lips. “She wasn’t wrong though. That Santa Claus wasn’t exactly kind to that poor guy…”

A sympathetic wince slumped Marinette’s red-spotted shoulders. 

“I know Manon’s unexpected question caught everyone off guard, but there was enough chatter at the time; I should know. I made a big post on the Ladyblog suggesting just who _ought_ to replace them.” Alya smirked at the memory. “It was big enough to go viral and hit the news. Though obviously only a few of the stores actually made a change,” she grumbled, “You can be sure if they weren’t wise and hiring you, they’d definitely still be hearing complaints from me.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.” Marinette grinned, gaze darting down to the clock on the phone. “But I need to go. ‘Ladybug’ is due to make her grand entrance in a second here.”

Alya smirked back at her. “Guess I’d better let you _bug_ out, then?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Call you back later, okay?”

“I expect to hear all the details!”

“Bye, Alya!”

Her phone quickly stowed away, and her locker combination spun, Marinette walked towards the door, pressing the mask adhesive to her face, quietly bracing for the battle to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Marinette hadn’t known what role she had been called in to interview for with this department store at first, but she’d been offered the job immediately afterwards. 

Apparently, they had been impressed with just how close she’d gotten her look.

Not that she could explain why that was… nor how easily she could fit into one of the costumes they’d already had on hand...

When she’d shown up for her interview time, the middle aged woman only had her answer a few quick questions before tugging her down a quiet hallway to a second interview. Mid-way through the interview, it had become clear just what the position would entail.

Marinette had choked against the rising tide of panic, her terrified eyes straying down to her purse, clutched desperately in her whitening knuckles... until they’d mentioned the litany of extra precautions. 

Each and every one of their ‘heroes’ would sign a non-disclosure agreement, to make every good faith effort to keep their own identities hidden. They’d even staggered the shift times and the locker locations just to keep the ruse up. It was far easier to pretend for children that they didn’t know who one another was, when no one really had to lie. They even "learned" how to sign the heroes signatures during the rehearsal. 

Just in case.

Marinette was impressed at how thorough their planning was… and the fact that she wasn’t the one who needed to plan it all was a large weight off her shoulders.

The cash from this gig meant she could focus on school entirely in the next semester… and afford materials for gifts next year.

The downside was that she would have to slack on a few patrols, but Chat Noir probably wouldn’t mind. She’d be able to make him something much better for Christmas anyways. Plus, there was always Rena and Carapace to help out if they both were busy.

But ultimately, if it weren’t for the kids—and the fact that she’d have enough money to stock herself with fabrics for the next semester with very little work on her part—she would have run away, as far and as fast as she could sprint.

And then swing away a bit further, for good measure (not to mention her own sanity).

With one last passing glance in the mirror to ensure her mask was firmly in place, Marinette squared her shoulders and walked through the locker room doors.

* * *

Only a few minutes after she clocked in and before she was pushed out onto the store floor, the store manager unceremoniously dropped a heavy green and red bag into her arms. Marinette had hefted plenty of sacks of flour in her day, but this bag wasn’t nearly so well packed—and was clearly made for someone far taller than her—making it flop awkwardly over her shoulder. “What’s this?”

The manager smiled. “Some extra treats to pass out to our young guests.”

Nodding, ‘Ladybug’ adjusted her hold on the bag as she peered out the window. It was almost certainly a one-way mirror, and she was glad for the chance to have even a brief moment to take stock before she dove right into the chaos.

Beneath the shadows of the fake mask, Ladybug’s blue eyes widened as she watched the ever-growing line gather just outside the door. She honestly wasn’t really sure what kind of crowds she had expected, but it seemed like Alya had been right. 

Every child wanted to go to this store to meet Santa. The line ran almost all the way down from the back of the store to the entryway. 

She walked automatically, part of the large bag still swaying behind her as it hung off her shoulder. Though it took a little extra effort to glance around the bag, she made her way alongside the excited line of people watching her. By now, she was far too at ease with so many eyes, thanks to years and years of practice. Even if she felt far more vulnerable without Tikki’s transformation in place, she could do this. After all, what adult would possibly think that she was truly Ladybug?

Her ‘Chat Noir’ for the day stood up to full height, watching her carefully as she approached, green and hazel eyes gazing back at her from behind the black mask. 

She sighed, with an odd sense of relief as she noted he was a few inches shorter than her usual, favorite partner. He was wearing contacts, but even from this distance, she could spot the subtle differences between the might of magic and the limits of makeup.

He stuck his fist out, meeting her in the middle with a familiar motion that sent whoops and hollers through the closest crowd of kids. 

Ladybug beamed, shifting the weight of the festive bag into one arm, balancing it’s awkward weight on her hip. “Pound it!”

“Did you bring a present, My Lady?” A far softer voice than she’d expected answered.

Blinking back her mild surprise, she grinned, tugging at the bow. “I just saw Santa Claus. He’s almost ready to come out and visit with these kids. Looks like we’ve got chocolates enough to share with all of you!” She held one up high and grinned towards the closest children.

“Oh?” Chat Noir peered in—close, but not the familiar hover she’d half-expected. It was a polite, respectful distance.

Reminding her again, that this wasn’t her Kitty...

It didn’t stop her from hearing Chat Noir’s punning purr, even if only to herself. Sweets from the sweet, M’lady.

Her faux partner held out his claws like a bowl, for her to drop a few candies in so he could help to appease the unruly line. 

Ladybug sighed in unmasked relief, as he stooped down to dole out the chocolates. She kept pace, refilling his extended hand and passing out more than a few of her own as they started through the line.

By the time Santa Claus had stepped out into the Christmas village, she felt entirely at ease—entirely sure of herself—leaving her to wonder just what exactly she had been so afraid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For simplicity in English, I've used the conventional English naming of Santa. However, I will be using some (but not all) of the French Christmas practices for Pere Noel. 
> 
> It isn't a perfect cultural read, nor was I expecting to be able to get quite there, especially without being able to travel and experience a good deal of it myself.
> 
> We often write what we know. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Kellarhi and Enberlight for beta reading!

Tired and achy, Marinette had plodded back on the metro, slumping into her seat after a long first shift and pressed her forehead against the chilled glass. 

Tikki had stayed on standby the whole time—just in case—but now they both could use a bit of a break. 

* * *

She’d snuck in a nap before she transformed to arrange a later night patrol with Chat Noir.

“Sorry, Kitty. The cold is affecting me a little more than usual this year,” she explained when they finally met up.

It wasn’t _exactly_ the full truth—the muscle aches from lifting up so many kids without the aid of Tikki was far more the reason for her discomfort. 

But _that_ was a little too telling. 

Chat Noir—the real one—just grinned, leaning in ever so slightly. “I’d be _purr_ fectly happy to help by cuddling you, my Lady.”

Her eyes narrowed as she pressed him by the nose back into his own space. “That isn’t exactly practical for patrols now, is it, Kitty?”

He sighed, shrugging his shoulders while a soft smirk still lingered on his lips. “My suit’s never really given me an issue with warmth. But I _am_ a little busy around this time of year, too. I guess I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to cut down the patrols just a bit...”

Ladybug just beamed back at him. 

And if she took him up on the cuddles he’d offered… well, who could blame her? It actually was a little chilly this time of year.

* * *

Only a week after she’d started and Marinette really felt like she was getting into the swing of things.

With the moments of anxiety over possibly being recognized growing fewer and farther between, it was much easier to arrive on time.

Today, she’d run from home, finishing her extra help in the bakery after turning in a final paper at school. Marinette had just enough time to grab her costume and slip into the changing room in the back to put it on before she needed to clock in.

It was almost as if spending her formative years madly rushing around had taught her how to prioritize.

If all went well, she’d even be set to finish up a gift or two this evening...

With a secret smile to herself, she pressed open the locker room door to spot Santa Claus himself headed back towards the break room with the photographer. That wasn’t anything particularly unusual. Though _this_ particular Santa usually reserved his jolly laughs for the young audience on the other side of the doors.

Blinking, Marinette looked back and forth between the pair. “What’s so funny?”

That only had Santa laughing even harder. 

The photographer took pity, but was barely biting back a chuckle of her own. “The kids have been keeping your partner very busy.”

“Huh…” Ladybug murmured, stepping onto her tiptoes to try and sneak a peek. Not that she could actually see what her partner for the evening was up to.

The photographer’s hand flew to her mouth to muffle an ill-timed snort. 

Ladybug’s eyes narrowed.

“Some of the kids kept knocking into the tree in the corner, and jostling off the ornaments.” The photographer explained, snagging a fresh set of batteries from the back. “One of them sent a glass ornament crashing onto the ground. The store sent someone out to clean it up, but Chat had practically set himself up there as a guard kitten. Only then the kids kept knocking into him when they’d tackle into him for a hug.”

Ladybug’s lips curved. This ‘Chat Noir’... he was so well-intentioned... but, somehow, he just kept messing it all up. “So you’re saying he’s in character?”

The photographer guffawed at that. “Very. This past last half hour has just been this delightful comedy of errors. I swear, between the exuberant little angels and whatever the costume department put inside that belt tail to make it look like it’s waving about, half the ornaments on that tree came down.”

“Half, huh?” Mirth danced in her eyes as she looked around the hallway. She stooped down as her gaze fell to some words on the side of a box. “I think what I’m hearing is that my poor partner is in need of a rescue…”

“Absolutely.” The photographer grinned. “It seems like he is probably nearly done with his shift, too.”

* * *

Chat Noir… was tired; it wasn’t exactly anything new, and he chuckled thinking about that.

But rescuing the citizens of Paris—even the tiniest ones, with their worst impulses—wasn’t usually _this_ tiring... 

He scooped up one of the toddlers who had just run rogue.

Of course, his wretched tail batted into the tree as he moved, knocking yet another ornament onto the ground.

He sighed, setting the toddler back into his waiting mother’s arms. Kids were much easier in smaller numbers for sure… and in the real costume. The tiny bumps and bruises from tiny pointy knees and elbows? Definitely didn’t usually feel _that_ from inside his transformation…

As his gaze swung back around to the tree, he was relieved; at least this ornament hadn’t broken.

Next time, he’d definitely have to make Plagg stay in his locker. _Just_ in case… Plagg’s bad luck seemed to be striking him again.

“Hey, Kitty,” an angelic voice murmured. “Need a hand?”

He looked up, seeking whatever port in the storm was headed his way. 

Instead, he found himself breathless, adrift as his gaze landed on bright blue eyes that seemed to be as compelling as those that consistently held his heart. Or, maybe it was just hope that made them seem so familiar.

She simply smirked at him, striding down the hall towards him with a purpose. “I see you’ve got the destruction part down.”

Chat sighed, ready to bite back a bit of grumbling.

Only… she’d winked at him then, setting the box she’d been holding into his hands. “I brought along a bit of a _creative_ solution.”

His eyes grew wide behind the mask. Was that a pun? Belatedly, he recalled their audience, using the sharp edge of his claws to rip the box open. “Candy Canes?”

She beamed at him before marching right into the middle of the throng of children, putting herself entirely at their mercy. She crouched down to their eye level, letting them into her secret plan as well.

“We have a few minutes before Santa comes back, right? I bet with a little bit of help, we can all fix the decorations before anyone even notices. And maybe, if everyone is very, very good, we can give away a few candy canes, too?”

* * *

Chat Noir’s legs buckled, as he slipped back against the wall, dropping wearily onto the bench. He shucked his boots one after the other, dropping them to the floor with a heavy thud. Shoulders slumped, he trudged over to the sink with his bottle of face wash.

By now, he was pretty sure he’d worked with three different faces behind the Ladybug mask as a less-than-superpowered Santa’s Helper.

Each of these Ladybug actresses he’d worked with? All of them were sweet in their own ways. And it was a bit uncanny how close in stature and appearance they each were. 

The Ladybug he’d met on the earliest part of his shift—she was was absolutely sweet. Handing out tiny chocolates with a warning, telling all the little ones to brush their teeth carefully before they headed off to bed.

It reminded him painfully of how utterly sweet _his_ Ladybug truly was, usually in the moments just before they were forced to part. Oddly, those instances were probably the more photogenic times their interactions were captured and blogged about (for years). So, as heart wrenching as it was for him, it wasn’t any surprise that was the quality that each of these Ladybugs had chosen to draw from.

He sighed, his fingers absently tracing the edges of the mask still covering his eyes as he compared them to his Lady. The second one he was sure he’d worked with the most kind of giggled at all of his puns. It had been endearing, at first, but he’d been hoping for a quick parry to his puns, and her sweet demeanor only left him missing the real deal all the more.

Yet, this _newest_ Ladybug? She was pure spitfire… as quick and clever as his own Ladybug.

S _he’d_ come up with a clever solution on the fly. She’d winked at _him_ , knocking him back on his heels just as effectively as no end of tiny, pointy little knees and elbows had.

And when she’d punned right back at him?

“Well, that was a purr-fect solution, My Lady,” he’d beamed, bowing slightly to her cleverness, a good distance away from the crowds. They might not be able to be heard, but it never hurt to put on a bit of a show. He’d delighted in watching the parade of parents snicker at their antics along the side.

She’d stood beside him, just as amused as the line tapered off a bit. Her arms crossed over her chest, as she peered over her shoulder at the mess of candy canes on the tree behind them.

“Well, someone had to avert the _cat_ astrophe…”

He’d stood there… stunned, walking her confidently across the room to greet the new guest—she was entirely unfazed.

Blinking against the slightly uncomfortable contacts, Chat thought for sure it was actually her.

But that was absolutely _impossible_. Ladybug was far too much of a stickler for rules and preserving their identities to ever do something like this.

But that didn’t keep him from holding on to a glimmer of hope.

He sighed, scrubbing the sticky adhesive from his skin and revealing a face that had graced more than a fair share of magazine covers.

There was a redness marring his cheeks and nose that hadn’t lingered these few days before; He scrutinized his reflection in the mirror. He wasn’t sure if the redness was from the chilly walk… or from the blush he wasn’t quite managing to stifle. 

Adrien closed his eyes, diligently splashing his face with water… trying desperately to clear his head.

He _definitely_ had a type. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been using it more formally, but I have been using the wearemiraculous prompt list from mlholidays2k19. I think I'll be incorporating most (if not all) of that prompt list before this piece is done. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Kellarhi for beta reading.

Bundled up against the chilly wind, Adrien headed out of the flat. It would have been much easier to be able to slip out of his room, but doing so would require the cover of full dark.

The soft blue scarf from his father—the only kind gift he had thought the man had ever managed to give to him—was half a bastion against the chill.

It also served as a stark reminder of why he was in this mess in the first place. 

It was a paying gig. After Hawkmoth’s mask had fallen, his father wasn’t _arrested_. Just forcibly retired to the country… with a permanent guard.

His father’s business had been transferred to new management. Their house had been thoroughly shuttered and sold, and much of the valuables (excepting the items in his room) had been auctioned off. His mother’s—well, cocoon, for lack of a better turn of phrase—had been moved to one of the top hospitals. At least until he and Ladybug could manage to make any progress towards waking her up… a task that was made all that much more difficult after they’d lost the help of Master Fu.

Adrien wasn’t exactly sad to see his house sold. It hadn’t felt like a home in a very long time. And it’s sale would essentially see to it that he, his father, and his mother—after she’d recovered of course—could all live very comfortably for the rest of their natural lives.

He wouldn’t even need to have a job right now, except for the fact that a large amount of his funds were tied up in trusts until his 21st birthday. In the meanwhile, he’d been enrolled in University courses and was living in a flat with Nino. Those expenses where negotiated and covered. But he’d found out the hard way he’d have to scratch and claw for any other nicety. And modelling gigs weren’t as thick on the ground when your father was infamous.

It was pure luck that he had overheard Alya talking about the gig when she’d been over for dinner—as he was sneaking back in as Chat Noir. That very night, he’d sent in an email inquiry, and with it, his old credentials in periodically playing the role. Within an hour, he’d had a phone interview—his face was a little too recognizable and they wanted to keep the faces behind the masks hidden.

That suited him just fine. 

Even if he wasn’t exactly an actor, there was hardly anyone else who could play himself better. And, although yesterday’s Ladybug could pull off an amazing take on his Lady, it was likely that she’d probably been trained as an actress. That, and she was taking this whole role far more seriously than he was, which only primed her all the more to pull it off so convincingly.

Convincing enough to even _fool him_ …

Adrien’s eyes darted along the windows of the shopping district as he strode past. Since Ladybug had been gracious enough to lighten their patrol load a little, he’d even had a bit of extra time and money to spare for Christmas shopping.

And he was on the lookout for the _purr_ fect gift for her.

* * *

There was a lot from this job that he hadn’t expected. 

He hadn’t expected just how much joy he’d see on all the little faces, and the big ones, too.

Sure, it was tiring to repeatedly lift little ones up into the air, but their glee was entirely worth it. He’d spent most of his life taking photos, but at least _these_ he’d actually enjoyed, despite the bone-tired weariness that went with the end of each shift.

He hadn’t exactly expected to see his favorite Ladybug again either. Well, the actress one, anyways. 

But, he’d recognized her since her hair was just the slightest bit darker than those of the other girls. It seemed possible that hers was natural and not the standard issue wig. 

He’d only noticed after they’d both been dragged into photos together. 

More than a few older girls, older still than probably believed in Santa Claus, had ducked in to grab a photo with the heroes as well. 

He’d noticed how his pretend partner’s cheeks flushed prettily each time the older visitors came for photos. And he couldn’t help but beam with secret pride when he’d watched it happen, over and over again. 

When he’d watched the soft satisfaction on her face.

He wished he could bottle it, and bring _that_ to his real Ladybug. There was nothing that she deserved more than to know just how much the people they protected each day loved and appreciated her.

What’s more, it was just... _easy_ working with this Ladybug. She’d even been the right height that he was used to—and been remarkably game—to try a few pointed fist bumps after they’d successfully helped to get a cranky trio of young siblings all settled for a few good photos within the first two minutes.

A minor miracle for sure, if this past week had been any indication.

When the line had shortened, the amused photographer urged them to repeat it so she could snag a new promotional photo for Ladybug, Chat, and Santa for the website.

* * *

Of course, the surprises kept coming. But, as with Akuma, not all of them went well…

One tiny girl—dolled up in pigtails, shiny shoes and a shiny green velvet dress to match—was playing, just out of each reach of her mother. She’d grown weary of waiting, and had snuck behind the ropes to the staged faux fireplace. Placing one foot in front of the other, she began to shuffle around the edge of the display.

Neither the shoes nor the display held together as well as might be hoped, and it was only the wretched, pained cry of the girl falling that had pulled their attention mid-shot.

They both were on the move, rushing out of the photo and onto the scene.

His Chat Noir instincts had taken over completely as he’d swooped the girl up into his arms— Ladybug and the girl’s mother at his heels as they rushed to the back room. He wasn’t watching, but by the time they’d reached the break room in the back and he’d eased her down into the comfiest chair he could find, Ladybug had an ice pack in hand and was tugging over a chair to elevate the girl’s leg.

This room was near the easiest exit to bring in an ambulance, and at least without the crowd, the mother was free to soothe her child while the store managers were handling the chaos of bringing in the medical professionals.

Ladybug sat there, the whole time, one hand steadying the ice, the other holding the little girl’s hand. “You’ll be alright,” she smiled. “You’ll see. I get to work with these guys all the time to keep everyone safe, right?” 

The girl nodded her tear streaked face, still quite pale. Her mother cuddled around her, smoothing her hair and patting her back.

He’d peered out of the room, watching for the first sign of the medics, who couldn’t have taken more than five minutes to arrive on the scene.

The whole ordeal had been over and done within about fifteen minutes, leaving them both a bit breathless as the ambulance bed rattled down the hallway.

Exhausted, they both grabbed an extra water and then were rushed back out onto the floor.

* * *

The photographer had been a bit miffed of course. She and Santa had to calm the family when Ladybug and Chat Noir had sprinted off, but the parent’s at least had understood.

At the start of their shift the next day, the mother and daughter were ushered back in to finish their shoot, the little girl in a shiny red dress that was probably a special concession from the store.

Almost unsurprising, Nadja Chamack and her camera crew were also there to shoot a ‘good news’ piece. Chat Noir might have been inclined to roll his eyes at the store’s obvious mercurial intention to smooth feathers and capitalize on the advertisement.

But the girl had beamed when both of the heroes had stooped down to sign her cast.

And if she’d giggled joyously as he’d lifted her up into an echoed pose of their rescue, then that was reward enough for him.

The smile on his partner for the day’s face made it all too clear he wasn’t the only one who thought so.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Kellarhi for beta reading!

At least in the management’s eyes, that heroic moment had locked them both into an inseparable pair. Marinette had years of experience rescuing people, so the incident with the small girl really wasn’t out of the ordinary to her—but apparently it was just the type of publicity that created an influx of new children that wanted to meet Ladybug as Santa’s helper. As such, the manager had asked if she’d be available to work a few additional shifts so that she and this Chat Noir could be paired with each other. 

The extra shifts would be a boon; she could pick up those extra few bolts of fabric, and—since she was on top of her studies—her final project was already written, so she technically had the time. 

With Hawkmoth… gone... she’d almost had more time for herself than she’d known what to do with. Years and years of chaos had made her ruthlessly efficient with her own time management.

Marinette had responded automatically. The pay itself was definitely worth it, and it would allow her to be all that much more generous to her family and friends.

Besides, the people were really lovely, too. She’d worked with a few of the guys masquerading as Chat Noir, but this current one… he was definitely a step above the rest.

* * *

Despite the pay, liking her co-workers, and the fact that she got to hand out candy all day, it didn’t mean her job was easy.

Not by any stretch of the imagination.

Some days were simple… where the hardest choice was _which_ candy to hand out first.

This? Was not one of those days...

Ladybug sighed. Outside of the very real mask, the only true practice she’d had in handling children had been Manon. 

Santa just had a wiggling, red-faced, screaming toddler set onto his lap. And no amount of dancing or silly-faces or other cajoling could get the little girl to settle down.

She held back, puzzling for a solution that might work. The child’s mother was busy, wrangling the toddler’s two older, equally wiggling siblings.

Chat Noir dove right in. He’d already been handing out treats and had snagged a colorful lollipop out of his bowl first. He’d crouched down to her level, dangling the brightly colored treat before her.

The little girl had cooed at the treat, but had taken one look at the big, scary tall guy wearing all black. And wailed anew.

Ladybug scooped up the girl, and walked to stand beside her mother on the far side of Santa. The girl still held her hands out to the very weary mother, but at least had stopped screaming long enough for her mother to calm her down. 

In the end, the toddler was settled onto Santa’s lap between her older siblings… while Chat Noir played peekaboo from behind an equally silly Ladybug from behind the camera.

She and ‘Chat’ shared a relieved smile once the family had stepped away. 

The tension in her shoulders ebbed away as she readied for the inevitable next challenge to come. It was almost like playing a video game;the mini-bosses were only a precursor to another, much bigger boss.

She had learned to let those lessons roll off her back.

As he stepped beside her, waving at some new faces in the crowd, he leaned down ever-so-slightly to whisper. “That was clever.”

Her brows rose beneath the soft fabric of the mask, feeling a slight tug at the adhesive. She hadn’t expected the compliment for such a little thing and she had to fight not to blush and match her mask. 

He smiled—he didn’t pun or preen. His eyes just looked honestly impressed. “How did you know?”

This guy… she wasn’t sure if she was going to survive it if he could manage to wreck her with a simple line she’d heard from her partner plenty of times before… 

Beneath the mask, it was all Marinette could do not to scream. “It was more of a lucky guess, really.” She admitted finally with a wry smile. Far _luckier_ than even he would ever know.

He seemed happy enough with that explanation, eyes already drifting into the new guests that had assembled during their little crisis. “I guess I’m just happy our little friend would settle down enough that the peekaboo trick could work it’s magic.”

She looked at the lollipop he still held in his gloved hand… a bunch of similar ones still in the bowl. Amusement curved her lips. It seemed like not all of her experiences as Ladybug would actually come in handy.

Catching her gaze, he nodded, subtly following her charge to quell the unruly crowd.

* * *

Within a few hours, another crisis inevitably arose. She always took each challenge on so seriously. Frown on her face, she stepped to stride towards the older boys who were hanging off the Christmas tree.

Target acquired, Ladybug would never have expected an interruption.

And yet, she’d _spotted_ it. A clawed glove tapped at her shoulder, just softly enough to snag her attention as they lined up to head outside. Her eyes didn’t stray from the unruly boys. “Hm?” 

“Why weren’t you at Elf practice?”

She snorted. This absolute _memelord_. She was _definitely_ not prepared.

His Chat Noir-esque puns were there… but not exactly inspired. She’d heard Chat Noir cram four into a sentence once, a feat which had been equal parts ridiculous and impressive.

Not that she would ever tell the real Chat. He hardly needed the encouragement.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait… I thought you were the spacey blond. So, shouldn’t that be _my_ line?” 

He beamed at that, gleefully radiant with barely checked mischief. “Well, you do tend to stick to the rules like that. Which is why it is _my_ job to remind you to take a bit of a break...”

She shook her head, tension fleeing her shoulders as they walked side by side. Their loop around the line, handing out treats wasn’t exactly subtle. 

But as the boys’ antics continued, one pointed, more serious scowl from Chat Noir was all it took for the boys to suddenly right themselves and become—at least for the moment—as angelic as they were ever likely to be.

‘Chat Noir’ really was a bit of a marvel. Furtively, she’d watched him from the other side of the line, a soft smile deflected by the crowd in between them both. What he’d done -- in that moment -- was exactly what _she’d_ needed.

It still felt odd that the banter between them flowed so easily… so convincingly. After all her worries, she was just glad to have an actor working against her who had clearly done his homework well enough to do her Kitty justice. 

As the line tapered off, he noticed how her eyes kept straying to him.

Confused, he tilted his head. “What’s up, Ladybug?”

She shook her head, more than a little surprised at being caught. “And just how long have you been sitting on that one?”

“Since the first day,” he grinned, adjusting his gloves as he lingered in to finish _sotto voce_. “Only my first partner didn’t seem to get my jokes…”

She smirked, pushing him lightly back into his own space. “Or _pur_ rhaps… they just weren’t as funny as you’d hoped…”

Ladybug giggled—the predictable pout that formed on his face was its own reward.

* * *

Within only a few days of working together, it was clear to her that this particular pretend partner was sticking out a bit more in her mind—and earning her esteem. Even in some of the quieter moments, his kindness had reminded her of Chat Noir.

It was funny, in a sweet, oddly endearing way. She hadn't realized it at first—not until a few shifts in—but she was certain he was the one who had been stuffing little bits of candy into the display shoes at odd intervals.

It _had_ to be him. 

There wasn’t anyone else who it could be; she’d been watching, after all. The store employees were conspicuous. And the store’s Santa Claus—kind enough man, though he was—very definitely lacked all of the magic she’d seen when she’d worked with him years ago.

So, she called Chat on it in the back hallway before they were meant to part and change at the end of their shift…

“I can’t really do all that much—not as much as the real Chat Noir or Ladybug, of course. But that doesn’t mean I can’t do at least a little bit of magic for the kids.” The satisfied look on his face tickled the edge of her memory.

“How are you managing it?”

He grinned wider, lips curving up in a delightfully uneven smile. “I’ve learned how to not be noticed… especially when they’re busy watching Ladybug.”

More than once, he’d given her… well, _paws_. He had this really genuine, softly bittersweet little smile… directed entirely at her that left her a bit floored. 

It had been a little while, but she’d definitely seen Chat Noir— _her_ Chat Noir—make that same expression.

It was a lonely one. 

It didn’t hurt that he truly had a lovely smile. He must have been another actor… it seemed like the rest of the heroes here were. Of course, it must have been a challenge to find as many people in good enough shape to also look the part. 

When she could do little more than gape at him, he winked. 

Giving that familiar mock salute, he slowly stepped away from her. “I fear I’m going to have to bid you adieu,” he said, and took a low bow that was as good as any she’d seen Chat perform.

She nibbled at her lip anxiously, watching dumbfounded as he walked back towards his own changing room… wondering just how well had this guy done his homework to be able to emulate her Kitty so well?

* * *

After she’d clocked out and headed in the opposite direction for her lockers, Marinette finally let her shoulders slump. 

“I can’t believe him. He is absolutely _ridiculous_ ,” she murmured, shaking her head. And yet…

And yet, there was hardly anyone else who had managed to do her real partner such justice.

The words _he’s purrfect_ danced on the edge of her tongue. 

It was only when the hallway was well and truly vacant that Tikki could safely sneak out of her hiding spot, pushing her chosen back into the relative safety of the women’s locker room. “Did you ever consider that _maybe_ you’re just weak for blonds…?”

“Oh,” Marinette murmured, eyes narrowing. “There are definitely a few I can do without. I’m only partial to certain ones.”

Tikki smirked in silent amusement.

Leaving Marinette with no other choice than to stick out her tongue at her Kwami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL. And we're now...1/3 of the way through. Probably.
> 
> I hope no one cares that this one will run until after Christmas for sure. I mis-read the dates on the Discord exchange and had planned myself more time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Kellarhi for beta reading!
> 
> Merry Christmas and the Happiest of Holidays to you all!

He should have been ecstatic... and in any other year, he might have been.

Rubbing his temples, Adrien shut his eyes. 

On the way to his shift today, Nino had invited him along to an early family dinner. He was planning on attending, but not for the whole time; he was used to having to bow out of things early, especially when his father had been in charge at Gabriel.

But since he was no longer modeling, it wasn’t exactly like he could use the same set of excuses—even though he still had the same reasons to leave. Paris still wasn’t safe. Not entirely. 

The past year since Hawkmoth’s fall had only proven that. 

Nino and Alya’s place was always warm and welcoming, but part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that he was kind of intruding... 

He liked Alya a lot, and as they’d all grown older, he got to witness how she and Nino had grown closer.

Which was great—he was totally happy for Nino.

But the unsettled way he felt around them had skyrocketed since he’d moved in and started helping to balance out the bills. Adrien suspected—very strongly—that Nino might have actually gathered the nerve to buy her a ring for the holidays.

He’d felt awkward… far more than he had since he’d been the unsure, home-schooled teen still struggling to understand all the social nuances of collège. Only _now_ , he was aware enough to put a name to it: the third wheel. 

It would be better if Marinette could be there, too.

But it seemed that she was just as busy as he was.

The rest of Nino’s family would be there, too. Most of them couldn’t possibly be nicer… but his younger brother Chris hadn’t ever really been particularly welcoming. Nino had always assured him that was more a part of the age and the fact that his parents had spoiled him rotten.

And maybe that made sense when he’d been Akumatized as a young child… but in half a decade, his brother never seemed to have grown out of that phase…

When he added on the fact that there were just so many people, Adrien just wasn’t sure how comfortable he’d be at a large family gathering like that. He wasn’t really looking forward to being reminded of all the things he didn’t have.

Adrien sighed, tucking his phone back into his bag before stowing it in his locker. Hastily, Plagg phased out of the bag and then the locker. “Kid, what’s up with you? Nino asked you to spend time with them, and you gave him a non-answer. I don’t get it. Don’t you want to go spend time with your friends?”

“I do.” Adrien assured, after he was certain the coast was clear. “Of course, I do. But—” he stalled momentarily, trying to evade the truth of the situation, “I can’t properly thank Nino until I have the funds to do it. At least until I get those funds out of trust. I would just feel weird showing up to a family Holiday gathering without something to show how grateful I am to have his friendship right now. If you knew how many times Nino’s been eyeing that new equipment and then his checkbook...”

Plagg’s eyes narrowed. “You think he wouldn’t rather just hang out with you?”

Adrien shook his head, pulling his suit and boots free. “You know it isn’t that. We can hang out anytime… but if I’m right, he’d probably appreciate that equipment all the more. Besides,” he murmured. “If I don’t go, it means I can keep working… which just means I’ll have a little extra cash on hand to spend on Ladybug, too.”

* * *

As quick as his pretend partner had been to press _him_ for being sneaky, she’d proven she could be just as bad. For the past few days, there was a huge box of cookies in the break room; reindeer sugar cookies that had come from Marinette’s family’s bakery.

He turned wistful, wondering how Marinette was doing. No doubt she was in the middle of finals… he was sure they’d catch up a lot more once her tests were all done next week.

He walked up to the table, studying the box of cookies as he considered how they’d arrived; he was sure it had been his pretend partner who brought them in. 

Maybe it was the secretive grin on her face after she’d swiped one of the cookies from the box. Or the unrestrained joy in her eyes when her tongue darted out to catch every last crumb that lingered on her lips. 

Or _purr_ haps, it was the soft waft of perfume near the cookies each day. 

His pretend partner wore a familiar scent, one he kept struggling to place.

They’d worked in close proximity for days on end now, taking picture after picture together. Although, Adrien didn’t trust his own nose—not without Plagg’s aid—to fully eliminate the often stronger scents from the costumes. 

As Chat Noir, picking up on scents was more of a typical day.

He’d finally managed to coerce Plagg with an unhealthily heaping pile of Camembert to confirm his suspicions. 

At least some part of it _definitely_ smelled a lot like the cookies from Tom and Sabine’s Bakery.

* * *

They’d both been in the breakroom, masks firmly in place, stealing two of the last cookies—which he’d devoured with relish—when one of the floor managers for the cashier’s group had come in.

“Oh! I didn’t realize all of you were on break.” 

Ladybug grinned. “We don’t get to take a lunch break at the same time as Santa, but since he needed to take an extended break anyways, we are just taking a longer lunch. We’ll both cover the floor while he takes his own lunch break later.”

The manager nodded—the odd scheduling might have been new to them, but clearly this manager had seen it all. “Did anyone tell you both about the Secret Santa?”

His pretend partner blinked prettily and then shot him a confused look. “I don’t think so?”

“The store runs it every year, for all the employees—even our seasonal folks,” the manager explained, dropping heavily into the cushioned folding chair. “No one has to participate. There’s a twenty euro limit on picking out the gifts, but if you bring a present, you also leave with a present.”

Chat pondered the idea for a while, as the manager spelled out the planned date for the exchange. After, as they walked back out towards the store floor, he turned to her. “Think you’re going to do it?”

“Maybe…” she murmured, wheels in her head clearly turning through a few choice options. “If I can think of something really good.” Her grin only grew from there. “Or amusing, at least…”

He beamed back at her, following at her heels as they both rushed out onto the floor, pretending to be returning after an Akuma attack.

Maybe it was the spirit of the Season; though they’d only worked together for a short time, he was awfully tempted to get her at least a little something as well. 

Adrien wasn’t sure exactly what it was about _this_ Ladybug he’d been working with: her gentle smirk; her poorly restrained glee at his well timed puns; even her not-so-subtle irritation was only ever mild—fondly exacerbated—and only ever when he was more focused on the _purr_ fect pun and leaving her to deal with the tiny hordes. And all of it reminded him far too much of his real Ladybug.

But if the real Ladybug couldn’t be there next to him... well, having the lovely reminder of the best of her was possibly the next best thing.


	7. Chapter 7

A secret smile tugged at her lips as Marinette ducked into the back entrance of the Department store. She wasn’t supposed to know—by all rights, she honestly _shouldn’t_. 

But she had a man on the inside… or more accurately, a _woman_.

The Store really had been lovely. Of course, Santa himself would talk to the children and bring the good children treats for their shoes left out by the fireplace. But he also had a special mailbox for the children to write to him and tell of some of their good deeds... and maybe also so they could leave some of their favorite treats for him.

It hadn’t taken long to realize that most of the letters the children brought—piles and piles of them—were actually addressed to Ladybug and Chat Noir.

So somewhere along the way, Ladybug and Chat Noir each got a mailbox. Setting out a spare set of boots for them would be a little trickier to manage. Not to mention that it might give away a little of the magic...

Marinette hadn’t thought much about it at all until Alya had reached out to the _real_ Ladybug; the store had hand delivered two large bags of letters and asked for help delivering them—one for Ladybug, and one for Chat Noir.

She’d scowled at the size difference—Chat Noir deserved far more than that.

* * *

During the next few days, she’d snuck in a few treats on her own for Chat—more than a few bundles of cookies—until the size of his bag rivaled her own.

She’d been so quiet about it… until the day came that she’d been caught stuffing a few of the candy canes into Chat Noir’s mailbox.

“What are you doing?” He breathed.

She’d blanched, tensing up at being caught in the act.

Slowly, she’d turned around. She couldn’t possibly guess why but he had blushed so darkly, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Paris wouldn’t survive—not without the both of us. Little kids don’t always bring treats, especially when they expect them themselves. But that doesn’t mean only one of us should feel appreciated.” 

* * *

Chat’s eyes widened, gulping back against the heavy lump that had formed in his throat.

‘Ladybug’ gently jostled her shoulder against his—a trick that had definitely required her to stand on tiptoes—only that wasn’t what had left him feeling off balance. 

It was her words that _felt_ awfully familiar.

Civilian support wasn’t often so thick on the ground. Of course he had Nino and Alya to support him, but no one had ever been quite as adamant as Marinette. Even when he’d had to let her down gently after her very sudden confession—an act he’d grown to repent at his own leisure over the years in between—she’d still been amazingly understanding.

He’d had other breakups that hadn’t been nearly as amicable.

Yet somehow, she’d still managed to be a quiet, unshakable force at times in between.

Hawkmoth hadn’t exactly stopped trying to undermine the public’s confidence in him. When even Alya had gotten riled up… and meek Adrien Agreste couldn’t puzzle out how to dodge her ire without drawing scrutiny onto himself, it was Marinette who had softly spoken up. It was _Marinette_ who had reminded Alya how many ways that Alya herself had been saved by him.

Her adamant defense had meant everything when it had felt like the whole rest of the world had turned against him. 

Witnessing his pretend partner’s gratitude for Chat—as she was caught over-stuffing his mailbox with treats, and then hearing her reasoning for it—pulled at his heartstrings. And he couldn’t help but connect the civilian defense in his mind; her words were _very_ familiar. She sounded eerily similar to his quiet classmate.

He stared at the darkened pigtails as they bounced away, as she left him alone… entirely unaware of the havoc she’d unleashed on his heart.

* * *

The problem—as Adrien realized the very next day—wasn’t that he was suddenly certain that he knew who was hiding behind the mask.

The problem was that everyone noticed it—they noticed how it had affected him. They looked at Chat Noir’s usual puns and banter... 

And they misunderstood _entirely_. 

The sudden appearance of mistletoe all over their usual spaces made that entirely too clear.

It was haunting him. If she really _was_ Marinette, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. But with all the pointed looks through the day, it had become increasingly clear that he wasn’t going to make it out of this unscathed.

A surprisingly large number of “helpful” parents kept pointing it out to him...

Santa himself had chuckled far too many times when Chat drew close to the sprig, carefully quick to bounce out of reach. 

But eventually he’d been herded beneath it. No amount of punning and salacious eyebrow waggles were going to get him out of the nosy attention of the adults.

He wasn’t about to make her feel uncomfortable.

Ever the gentle chat, he'd lifted her hand, pressing his lips lightly to her knuckles through the glove.

The chorus of cheers hadn’t dimmed his focus as her blue eyes had widened sharply. Especially not after the crowd was calling for her to return the gesture to his cheek.

On instinct—if a split second slower than he’d expected it—she gently pressed him back as no small amount of warmth burned at her cheeks. 

He tilted his head meaningfully, gaze darting upwards in explanation.

Her eyes followed, as the most endearing little squeak slipped passed her lips. 

Chat Noir’s own lips curved, reminiscing about the time -- years ago -- that Marinette had helped him out… and ruing the pun he had to keep under _wraps_.

Instead, he steadied his own breathing, taking in her stunned silence. Time seemed to have stopped while she blinked—ever-so-slowly— before glancing back at him. Comically, her eyes widened then at her hands, which were—to his own surprise as well—still lightly resting against his chest.

‘Ladybug’ straightened suddenly, dropping her hands back to her side with every bit of haste she could muster.

“Oh! Umm… sorry, Kitty. I’m pretty sure that’s actually a bit of holly and ivy.”

Santa chuckled loudly, one of the few close enough to hear her too… the right jolly old elf through and through. 

Chat pouted, fidgeting under the weight of amused scrutiny of the crowd.

Though whether he was more sorry to have been fooled...or a bit sad that she hadn’t been daring enough to return the favor before the crowd, he wasn’t entirely sure.


	8. Chapter 8

Ladybug wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when Santa pulled her and Chat Noir both aside just before shift. Santa invited them both back into his own special break room; he got far more treats than he knew what to do with, but not enough for the whole store.

The older man looked a little sad… and more than a little uncertain. “One of the earlier customers left a big plate of cookies—much bigger than I can handle myself. Would you like to join me for a few snacks?” 

She shrugged. “I can stick around for a little while. But I have some gifts I was hoping to get finished up tonight.”

Chat Noir grinned at her, whispering into her ear. “You might want to a sweater or jacket if you have one.”

Ladybug stopped in the middle of hauling a new bag of treats into her arms. “Why’s that?”

Chat winked. Of _course_ he did. “We _are_ headed to the North Pole after all, Ma---M’Ladybug.”

She shook her head, leading him out onto the floor. “It’s much too early in the day for puns, Kitty.”

* * *

Accurate to the character he was portraying or not—and Chat Noir definitely was a character, if nothing else—even his poor sense of humor couldn’t detract from the kind offer of sweets after the long day on her feet.

Keeping the fabric mask firmly in place, Marinette stopped off at her locker first to check on Tikki while ‘Chat Noir’ waited for her outside. When she was done, she met him so he could lead the way to Santa’s personal retreat.

“You’re going to love it up here. I had no idea, but this particular Santa has been playing the role for like twenty years. He’s got a whole collection of memorabilia from each of the years he’s been working here.”

Her brows wrinkled beneath the mask. “And is it normal for people to bring Santa treats…?”

Chat Noir winced; It was subtle, but it was definitely there. “He might be a bit of an exception to the norm…”

Marinette watched him, following at his heels up the back stairwell as his boots loudly clomped against the concrete. 

His voice grew hushed as he peered up the stairs. “When I was up here a week ago, he told me about how he lost his wife last year. He didn’t think he wanted to come back, but he'd promised his wife he would carry on because she knew it was something that made him happy. And that made _her_ happy.”

The smile on Chat Noir’s face grew fond as he leaned back against the rail. “I think it makes him happy because he has people to talk with.”

Marinette smiled back, arms crossed over her chest. “I wouldn’t have minded coming up here to visit before, but no one had told me about it.”

Chat ducked his head. “I’ve really only gone a few times now. You’d hurried out the first time though, so I couldn’t check to see if you wanted to join. But after I’d heard his story, I couldn’t bring myself to say no…” His eyes grew distant through the soft green contacts. Shaking his head, he started to move again. “I mean… I know what it’s like to be that lonely.”

Blinking, she paused on the step she was climbing. “Really?”

He nodded, silently. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed it…” She trailed off, rushing a bit to catch up.

He bit at the inside of his lip, as if puzzling out just what he was at liberty to say, considering the confidentiality aspect of their contracts and all. “My Mom… when I was a kid she became sick. Far more sick than I’d ever realized. For a while, I was under the impression that she had died."

Beneath the mask, Marinette could do little more than gape as his jaw clenched. Her head jerked back as an icy chill chase down her spine and settled like a vice in her belly.

Ladybug’s shoulders tensed, as she breathed deeply in an effort to calm herself.

“My Father didn’t exactly bother to correct that belief. He’d… sent her away for treatment. I only get to see her now and again, but it hasn’t ever been anything like I remember her as a child. I haven’t heard my mother’s voice in so long… I’m still not sure if it’ll ever be possible to hear her again.” His eyes were distant… and pained. “And… my Father, well, he’s never really been there for me.”

Just watching his jaw clench at the mere memory made her struggle to keep herself from reaching out and tugging him into her arms.

“Chat…” She whispered tremulously, her shoulders slumping. One hand stretched out towards him automatically before she’d thought better of it, and she dropped it quickly. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright. Really.” Chat smiled wryly, turning back towards her as she reached the level where he’d stopped. “There wasn’t any way you could have known.”

* * *

The hallway where Santa’s dressing room was hidden away had a pretty old bay window that looked out on the lights outside. 

Unfortunately, it was a drafty old thing. 

Noticing the way Ladybug automatically clutched at her arms and rubbed, Santa chuckled. “There’s a reason why I managed to get a special space back here. People aren’t usually clamoring to come back this way when it's chilly out.”

Someone had set up a lighted candle display in the window. The candle—a newer style LED one—was still unlit. Chat Noir rushed over, turning on the candle and bowing away so Santa could step in and stand for a few minutes, waving to any passersby that noticed. 

“What was that about?”

Santa smiled as he gestured to the couch for them both to be seated. “An old family tradition of mine… one that my wife taught me. We would light a candle to bring all our loved ones home—to help them find the way.”

“Have you been lighting that candle each day?” Ladybug looked at her partner, her expression unreadable.

Chat Noir nodded. “For a few days, anyways. It’s been nice, really. It’s not something I would really be able to do at the place I live currently… rental agreements and all that.”

The older man, puttered around the room, looking for the plate of cookies. “Let’s see here… I _think_ this is the newest plate.”

Ladybug’s eyes widened as she'd spotted the pile. “That’s… a lot of cookies.”

Santa merely tapped his nose. “It’s like they all think I could stand to gain a little _more_ weight!”

Chat Noir grinned at that, already up and snagging a napkin for each of them from the side table. “I think they’re just hoping to _bake_ your day.” 

He paused for effect in front of Ladybug, treating her to an exaggerated wink. 

Santa’s ho-ho-ho was a genuine belly laugh. “Oh, I’m sure that’s _baked_ into it.”

Shaking her head at both of their antics, Ladybug took a big bite of the cookie. Bakery puns were a little too up her alley… and she couldn’t afford to give herself away. 

Especially not now.

As she watched her pretend partner sweetly banter back at forth with their older co-worker, a reckless, ridiculous part of her was wondering if maybe—just maybe—this fake partner might _actually_ be the real deal after all. She shivered a bit, only half from the drafty old room. 

She hadn’t known much about the real Chat Noir… but she did know that home wasn’t exactly a happy place for him. With the looming threat of Hawkmoth—and a parade of other villains in his wake—it hadn’t ever really been safe to ask him for the details, but he’d been saying since almost the very start that he’d prefer to be next to Ladybug rather than at home. In it’s own way… that was very telling.

But was this coincidence? Was it a matter of similar circumstances creating similar people?

She ate her cookies quietly, thoughts growing introspective. She watched her partner with curiosity as he sat beside her on the chaise, idly chatting with Santa.

If this Chat Noir was truly an actor, he was really, really good at keeping up the expressive mannerisms… even once the focus of a large audience was off.

She’d never heard Chat Noir talk about his mom. She was searching through every recollection, trying to recall even the slightest hint, but he’d only ever mentioned his father. This Chat Noir assumed his mother was dead… could the same be true for _her_ Chat Noir? 

Well, since Chat Noir always had to be very quiet about his home life, she wasn’t surprised to realize he’d never truly talked about it. But if her elf partner was also her superhero partner, it would allow her to get to know a part of him that she’d never been able to before. It was odd for her to think that maybe—after all this time—she might be able to understand Chat Noir far better than she’d been able to previously. It wasn’t that she didn't know him well; she did. But she hadn’t understood him.

Santa interrupted her musings when he took out a large thermos. “Would either of you care for a warm drink? It is a little chilly up here, after all,” he offered with a smile. He started to pour some into a small paper cup, then held it out to her.

“Thanks,” she murmured into the rim of the cup, glad for the excuse to let the sweetness wash the bad taste of guilt out of her mouth.

Just how much hadn’t she noticed…?

There were plenty of Akuma they’d fought together over the years. But with a few of them, he’d seemed more inclined to hold back even a little more than usual: Prime Queen, Befana, Ikari Gozen, Captain Hardrock... All of them came to mind quite quickly. Even with Mayura, Chat Noir had been careful. Almost _oddly_ so… 

Marinette sighed into her cup, letting the steam rise as she mentally filed and refiled all the details.

She’d always assumed it was more of his odd—and somewhat misplaced—notion of chivalry… but she never would have considered that maybe he was missing a maternal figure in his own life. That _maybe_ it made even striking someone who appeared to fill that role impossible… because it might harm someone else just like him.

She darted a furtive glance at her clever cat. His puns often acted as a secondary shield. Letting the Akumatized underestimate him so he could strike close enough to the heart of the matter once he’d caught wind of her plans.

She’d known just how many of those around her were akumatized. It wouldn't surprise her to know he'd found those people too and knew the relationships at play.

He tilted his head, noting her frown and the worry in her eyes. “Do you need to hurry home?”

“Not necessarily.” She nibbled at her lip. “I can go home a bit late, but my parents have always been a little nosy…”

“It’s nice to have them, though?” His gaze was open and honest…... in a way, it confirmed the suspicions that kept clawing at her mind.

“They’re wonderful. I wouldn’t change them for the world.” She frowned, pulling her legs out in front of her. “But I’d really rather be out on my own at this point.”

“You can’t do that?”

She frowned. “It wouldn’t be wise. I have some career goals, which makes leaving a challenge. I need to put money away… and need to create and build up my resume. The field I want to go into is very competitive. I need to prepare to hit it with everything I can, once school is done. And though I’ve got my parents’ backing, I’ll be going up against people with far more advantages. But it’s often pretty noisy at home when I need to buckle down and focus.”

Chat Noir smiled wistfully, curling up more comfortably and sinking more cat-like into the cushions beside her. “Noisy would be nice. My own apartment is generally pretty quiet, especially when my roommate goes back to see his family. It’s never really been loud, but sometimes the quiet can seem a bit overwhelming.”

She took a deep breath, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. Her torso was angled towards him, and she was using her proximity—and all of her senses—to continue filing away every spare detail about him she could. Maybe she wouldn’t unhear what she had already heard directly from Chat Noir, but her every instinct was crying out for a plan that could still save them both in a pinch. 

“I kind of know what you mean. My friend used to come over all the time...and now she’s at school on the other side of town. She didn’t stop by often, but I kind of miss the interruptions. It kept me on my toes…”

Chat Noir had a silly grin on his face. “Is that how you got prepared for this job?”

She smirked, dipping her lips back to the mug. “Something like that anyways…” 

His own gaze grew a little distant, one gloved claw absently rubbing his arm “Honestly. I’m a little jealous. All my friends seem to be moving in together or getting married. ” He beamed over at her. “Or are about to start big careers.” The smile seemed to slip under its own weight. “I would be happy enough if I didn’t feel like I was being left behind.”

“There never seems to be enough time, but somehow everyone else seems to manage…”

Santa chuckled from his large comfy chair in the corner.

Ladybug nibbled at her lip, half startled that she’d forgotten he was there, too.

"I know you young ones don’t often like to listen to wisdom and experience. But sometimes, the best things really do come to those who wait.” His fingers stroked along his snowy beard. “There was a woman who had been working together with me for years. The pair of us had even dated others... but eventually, there was one day where everything just clicked.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis. “And like that, true happiness can just surprise you out of the blue…”

“And then, you couldn't _picture_ yourself with anyone else in the world?" Chat Noir’s focus switched, fond amusement curving his lips.

Santa just guffawed, slapping his thigh. “She would have _loved_ that one, dear boy.” 

Ladybug could only look on affectionately, as her partner—he really did have to be—beamed with unrestrained pride. 

Santa shook his head, smiling over at the pair of them. “Ah… I’m happy you remembered, Chat. Yes, my wife was my photographer.”

Santa’s smile grew a little sad, as he pulled off one hooded robe to replace it with a fresh robe from a hanger. “But, to your question: No. Rocky start and all, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Kellarhi for beta reading!

Marinette had bundled up, fighting against the harshest winds of the season as she trudged in the side door for her shift.

After spending most of her sleepless night tossing and turning, she’d at least been able to use most of that anxious energy burning the midnight oil and putting the finishing touches on a few more Christmas gifts.

She rubbed her eyes, sticky and heavy from the lack of sleep.

Slipping out of her scarf, Tikki tilted her head in question. “Are you sure about this Marinette?”

She nodded, ducking back into the solitude of the locker room. It wasn’t like this wasn’t the same question Tikki had been asking her all last night. “It’s just one more week. I’d have a much harder time explaining why I’d have to stop. Especially as he didn’t do anything wrong. Technically.”

Tikki nodded sagely. “Not anything that you didn’t also do, you mean.”

Marinette’s nose wrinkled as she opened up her locker, pulling out her costume for the day and stowing her cold weather gear. “It’s not that I don’t trust him, Tikki...”

Sighing heavily, Tikki floated up to cuddle her cheek. “I know. There’s hardly any other human you would trust more. But that doesn’t change the fact that Plagg isn’t always the best influence.”

Snorting, Marinette quickly shut the door. “That’s putting it mildly…”

* * *

Mask firmly in place, Marinette stared at herself in the mirror, squaring her shoulders. 

With one final nod, she headed out the door to clock in.

Tikki was supportive, of course. But in all honesty, she’d actually really been having fun with him. It was a silly job, when it came right down to it. But it let her have most of the fun of being Ladybug—without the challenge of taking down an Akuma, of course—and all the reward of her years of being a hero. 

People hugged her. They thanked her. 

Sure, most of the parents who were there assumed she wasn’t the real deal… but what they didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt either her or Chat Noir.

But most of all, it was nice just to get to spend time with him. More and more, as they both got older— and busier with the added challenges of real life responsibilities—the ease of patrols grew further and farther between.

“Hey, Ladybug!” 

She stopped short, looking up at him. Of course, Chat Noir was already there. Waiting for her with that brilliant, crooked smile, just as he had done so often, for so many years.

Her lips parted as he straightened, pulling away from where he had been leaning against the wall. 

She looked up into his eyes, his rapt attention and focus not hidden beneath the contacts.

With a smile, her eyes dipped towards the door, as she lead the way.

“You ready, Kitty?” Ladybug peered over her shoulder.

Not that she needed to. She knew what she would see.

She knew what he would say.

“Always, My Lady.” He whispered, fondly. Chat Noir’s smile was a genuine one, lighting up his eyes.

Despite the chilly air that had lingered in the back hallway, she felt a warmth radiating through her chest, coursing into her veins.

Maybe Tikki wouldn’t understand. But in spite of the risks, she really didn’t want to give all this up.

* * *

There was a present for her under the store’s Christmas Tree. She hadn’t seen it, but a few eager little girls who _had_ ducked out of line, tugging her hands towards the tree and the tiny pile.

Well, technically, it was addressed to _Ladybug_. Her present was wrapped in red paper, with black spots at odd intervals. A similar package wrapped in black paper with a lime green paw print stamped onto it sat beside it.

“To: Ladybug, From: Santa” she read aloud, brows furrowed. The girls beamed at one another before they both dragged over Chat Noir as well.

Gamely, Chat Noir allowed himself to be pulled along, carefully holding their hands so as to not scratch. “What is it m’Lady?”

She held up the pair of presents, a little puzzled. She had no idea how they had gotten there… nor how they had managed to stay there in spite of the still sizable crowd this late in the season. She hadn’t noticed anything there when they’d walked past at the start of their shift.

“Open them!” A few more children had gathered, bouncing eagerly around them. “We want to see what Santa got you!”

Ladybug flinched. 

Chat Noir only blinked innocently, shrugging. “It was delivered here, after all.”

What on earth was he thinking? If this was actually supposed to be for the real Ladybug and Chat Noir, they definitely shouldn’t be opening them here.

She watched, wide-eyed as his claws ripped into the corner of the wrapping paper.

Ladybug sighed, letting her own shoulders slump, as her partner practically beamed at what he saw inside, though he’d only managed to pry the one corner loose with his claws.

“What are you waiting for?” He grinned wide.

A little _too_ wide, in fact. 

Ladybug’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. His surprise—but not the delight—seemed… rehearsed. 

Chat Noir was clearly up to something. But at least it allayed her doubts about _opening_ the package.

With a heavy sigh at the all-too-eager smiles all around her, she started to tear into the paper.

“Chat…” she breathed, eyeing the quality fabrics. It probably wasn’t one of the more expensive wools like cashmere or angora. But still… there was an intricate seasonal pattern in bright red and white on what part of the sweater she could see. “This is too much.”

If it had been the store that left the gifts, they would probably just be products they sold there. Aside from the costumes themselves—and the outside set up—the store had done as much as possible on the cheap. They definitely weren’t behind it.

Which meant, Chat Noir was even more generous than she ever would have guessed. 

She hadn’t complained—not even once—that she was a bit chilly. Though she was sure she had been shivering from time to time. She couldn’t even remember feeling the chill as much as she had in Santa’s little hallway. 

Her gaze locked onto his, as he beamed with unrestrained mirth. He still hadn’t finished opening his, but that hadn’t stopped him from asking her. “Aren’t you going to finish opening?”

Ladybug shook her head in disbelief before applying herself back to the task at hand. It was like he wasn’t even _pretending_ to be sneaky anymore…

A glance over at Santa had proven as much. Santa merely winked and played along with his game… amusement clear on his face as he tapped at his nose.

With one final, firm tug, the red and white sweater pulled free of the package.

Ladybug blinked, stunned for a moment as she took in the design on the front. 

“Kitty…” She grumbled, sighing dramatically as she attempted to massage away the growing ache at her temples. It would just figure if she suddenly managed to knock the mask askew. She rolled her eyes, repeating the statement more emphatically… “This is _definitely_ too much…”

He cackled, holding up his own ugly sweater. His was more green and had one of those heavily memed cat pictures with a carefully scripted “ _Meow_ ry Christmas” underneath.

Of _course_ , they had to be punny ones…

His decided glee only increased as he carefully slipped his own sweater over the costume, taking extra care not to jostle his ears or to shred the fabric with his claws.

Ladybug held up her own sweater, shaking her head before sliding it on to match.

* * *

It hadn’t take much coercion for the Photographer to snag a few more pictures of Chat Noir and Ladybug decked out in their extra festive finery.

Santa had only laughed harder when he’d seen the sweaters up close, which only confirmed Ladybug’s suspicions.

And only made Chat Noir whistle, as guilelessly as he could possibly pretend.

She quirked her lips, posing for another smile as she wrapped her arm around Chat. Fingertips only grazing his shoulder as she stood up on her tiptoes. “So…”

“Hmm?” He glanced down, wide-eyed, cheeks a little flushed.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence all of her own. “How is it that I ended up with with Grumpy Cat sweater?”

“Hmmm…” Chat Noir smirked as the camera flashed again. “It must be Bah Hum _ **bug**._”

Biting back a sigh, her gaze sharpened. “Do I seem grumpy to you, Chat Noir?”

Blinking, he eyed her outfit. “Right now? You seem downright festive.”

“Yes,” She murmured, turning strategically back over to the camera. “But I am always decked out in red. Even more so now, that we’re helping out Santa.”

Chat Noir seemed to ponder this, tapping a claw to his lower lip thoughtfully.

She’d spotted the telltale flicker of his lips, a sure sign of what was to come. “Well, I’d heard that you might have a case of low _elf_ -esteem…”

She just groaned… a palm pressing to her forehead as the flash went off again. 

He grin simply widened as his own arm mirrored hers, cuddling her a little bit closer. “I’m glad you’re playing along here, Ma-- M’Lady.”

She shook her head slightly. “My father is a giant punster. Honestly, I’ve grown up around it.”

Chat Noir chuckled loudly at that. _“Groan_ used to it, would you say…?”

“I _definitely_ did not…”


	10. Chapter 10

As she tugged her locker door open , Marinette massaged her aching shoulder. There was nothing like small children climbing on her or tugging her down to their level to make her miss the comfort of being transformed.

She patted Tikki’s head as she zipped out of the purse. “Are we transforming?”

Marinette frowned. It was tempting. She wanted nothing more than to get home quickly… to sink down into a warm bubble bath and soak all her aches away.

But she didn’t dare. Not now. 

All because _Chat Noir_ might very well be getting home the same way. All because he might be headed to their usual spot to start the patrol.

She shook her head. “Not tonight, Tikki. At least not until after I’ve gotten home.”

Tikki pouted a little at that, but her frown was erased when Marinette handed her one of the cookies from the break room.

Tikki devoured it noisily as Marinette laboriously changed into her street clothes.

Her eyes never really left the cookie as Tikki erased it from existence. 

It just figured, really. After the sweaters, Chat Noir’s generosity hadn’t stopped. Today, he’d even come in with his own batch of cookies from _her_ parents' bakery.

Thank goodness they were the most commonly sold treat.

She didn’t want to even be tempted to ask her parents…

In fact, it only strengthened her resolve to avoid her parents entirely. Her mother always loved to tell her who’d stopped in to chat each day.

The last five years of fighting alongside her partner had been spent trying to keep every ounce of anonymity, for safety. The last thing she needed was to have one offhand mention by her mother sending the whole house of cards tumbling down.

* * *

Fresh from her bath, Marinette mind was up and running again. She shuffled around her room as she got dressed, only momentarily distracted by the half wrapped pile of gifts on her desk.

She'd gotten the sinking feeling she must have forgotten something. But the waters had provided some sudden clarity…

She ought to make something for Chat Noir, too.

At least as her pretend partner.

Chat's kindness had lingered—shift after shift—and had only pushed her along to add one more real gift to her list… It wouldn’t take all that much longer for her to knit an extra pair of gloves… 

It was easy enough to measure him by sight alone thanks to all of her coursework and practice. It also didn’t hurt that she’d only ever been working with him while he wore gloves.

As long as her calculations were correct, she had enough extra material on hand to make one more present work out.

There _was_ a chance she was wrong… but if not, it would neatly suit the scarf she was nearly finished with for Chat Noir.

He still wouldn’t know who was hiding behind either mask.

Marinette exhaled gently. She’d be entirely safe.

* * *

Fresh from her bath, she and Tikki took to the skies. 

Chat was frowning down at the hazy maze of lights below when she’d touched down on the slanted rooftop beside him.

“Ladybug?” he whispered with surprise. He was more than a little puzzled, his brows clearly furrowed behind his mask. 

But that was to be expected. 

She _had_ shown up on a night he was scheduled for solo patrol.

In an instant, he looked absolutely over the moon, with a smile that was just as dazzling as she’d seen from him earlier in the day.

But most importantly, it was reassuring. No matter what, he _hadn’t_ figured her out.

“Having a bad night?”

With a slow blink that softened his gaze entirely, Chat purred. “Not anymore.” 

She sat down beside him, scant inches between them. “So, what’s got you down, Kitty?”

His smile grew strained as he leaned his weight back upon his arms. “It’s always a little tougher around this time of year.”

“Well, luckily the crazy part of the season is nearly over.” She gently pressed her shoulder against his own. “And then we can start to pick up the regular patrols again, okay.” 

He smiled softly at that. “I think we’ll need to hold off on a patrol for tomorrow. When I was running around downtown, I saw one of those big department stores setting up for some sort of outdoor event. When I did a little digging, it looks like a pair of our doubles will be putting in an appearance. I figure it might be best to keep out of sight unless we’re needed.”

Ladybug tilted her head, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging them loosely. “That’s a good plan, Chat Noir.”

He beamed, staring out across the horizon.

“Speaking of plans…” She murmured, as she stared over at his profile. “I figured we might want to plan when to meet up for Christmas…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two-thirds of the way through!


	11. Chapter 11

Alya chuckled as she approached the heavily lit area; _poor Marinette._ She clearly thought she’d been _so_ clever, keeping all the details about her new job to herself. But Marinette had forgotten one other very _important_ detail about her friend. 

Well, _two, really:_ Alya’s instincts for investigation, and her stubbornness.

It was laughable that Marinette thought she could pull the wool over her eyes—even for a moment—when she’d never been able to keep a secret from her in all the years they’d known each other. Alya tutted, clicking her tongue as she studiously blended back into the crowd. After all, she’d helped Marinette get hired for the season… and immediately, her bestie had gone entirely mum about the whole thing.

In fact, the only thing she _would_ talk about was just how nice her co-workers were.

And really, she wouldn’t have cared at all, except for the fact that this job apparently had Marinette entirely playing a hermit. So she couldn’t help but be a supportive friend… and figure out _why_.

With a little help from one of her classmates, she’d managed to sneak into the store for a few days in a row, checking every position out on the floor, until only two remained.

Eventually, she’d had no choice but to ask Sabine when Marinette would be around… and work backwards to figure out when she would likely be on shift.

A friend had managed to snap a picture of the Ladybug and Chat Noir who’d been running around. She’d fired them off, and Alya had spotted her bestie beneath the fake mask immediately. 

But as she’d finally caught them together and spotted the interaction between the two? Well… Alya could totally get why Marinette had gone all quiet.

Alya peered over at the pair who were currently acting just like the huddle of children gathered all around them.

She was a woman on a mission—one that hadn’t really ended since they were barely teenagers.

But now? Now, she had _intel_. 

Nothing like having a boyfriend whose roommate was your best friend’s perfect match.

Alya had always been one of Ladybug’s largest supporters and fans. But the Ladyblog aside, Adrien’s collection kind of put hers to shame. Back in lycée, she’d thought Adrien had the tiniest crush on Ladybug; based on his collection _alone_ , it was no wonder Marinette worried about not being able to measure up. Her best friend was entirely wrong on that mark, of course. But at least that concern made sense...

Camera at the ready, she wheeled in close, pretending to get a few good shots of the Christmas lights…

Marinette was adorable; all the years of helping with Manon, and Ella and Etta had clearly paid off. She might not be able to handle a script to save her life, but she could wing it with the best of them—at least, whenever a _certain_ someone wasn’t around…

“Hey, Kitty!” She smirked, balling up a snowball in her hands… watching it as she tossed it up into the air and back down into fairly cozy looking gloves. “Do you want to build a snowman?”

The chorus of little cheers echoed in the surrounding block. 

She hadn’t really been paying much attention to the Chat Noir they’d hired.

She might be very happy dating Nino, but Alya still had eyes. This guy who they’d hired to play opposite Marinette was _fit_.

But that wasn’t the best part...

The Chat Noir to Marinette’s Ladybug was an absolute smitten kitten, looking at her best friend like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. His eyes kept slipping back over to her, in the middle of the busy mess of children, tossing heaps and heaps of snow onto the ever-growing pile.

Again… He wasn’t wrong. It only showed that he at least had good taste.

Not that Marinette had noticed, anyways… she was super-focused on her snowman, starting to make clear little details—ears and a bell—that left no room for doubt on just who she was making.

* * *

Marinette and a mess of tiny girls had all ringed around a growing pile of snow. Her pigtails bobbed around as she leaned down to their level. 

Alya kept taking photos, focusing on every detail she could capture. 

Beneath the mask, Marinette’s nose scrunched up in concentration. Her eyes narrowed, tongue peeking out from time to time as she shaped the ears of the SnowChat Noir. 

If nothing else, Marinette would enjoy seeing these later.

Alya bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud when she saw the ridiculously punny Ugly Christmas Sweaters the two “heroes” were wearing. She’d wondered how the store managed to get ahold of them. From what she’d seen, the costumes weren’t exactly built to have the fake heroes lingering outside for long.

With Christmas now only a few short days away, the shops along that strip were all hosting a large community event outdoors—but it wouldn’t be for long considering how chilly it was outside. Their costumes _definitely_ weren’t weather proof, so the sweaters were likely a welcome addition.

Alya frowned, letting her camera droop as she worried. It would seriously suck if Marinette happened to get sick over Christmas. No job was worth that.

The pair of pretend heroes were moving fast—probably to stay as warm as possible with the chilly air—playing with the kids. Sure, the extra mittens and scarves helped a bit as they were packing snow into place on their SnowBug and her SnowChat. 

Alya’s eyes narrowed. The suits appeared to be not much thicker than the Ladybug pajamas Marinette had made her a few years back.

And that hardly seemed enough to stave off the cold. Lowering her camera once more, she sighed… determined (as always) to take care of the friend who was always too busy caring about others to care for herself.

* * *

After a not-so-subtle tip to a store employee, the store passed out hot chocolate earlier than they’d planned. 

With a little bit of help from the stores around the square, the children presented their snow heroes to the gathered crowd.

Alya snorted. She wasn’t sure _which_ Chat Noir Marinette had been watching, but based upon the slim muscles and some of the costume details, her girl _definitely_ had been paying attention.

The Snowy Bug that Chat Noir and his helpful crew had created was a little plainer, though he had clearly made an excellent decision by using red ribbons and blue yarn for her pigtails.

Both of the faux heroes temporarily donated their prop weapons to complete the look.

The vote was administered by applause. 

All of Marinette’s hard work sculpting was well-received of course. And while the Chat Noir that Marinette had delicately crafted the details on was impressive, hers hadn’t drawn the loudest cheers. 

As her Chat Noir pointed out—much to the amusement of the crowd, “It’s always smart to pick the crowd favorite, m’Lady!”

Beneath the scarlet and black, Alya was amused to see the telltale flush on Marinette’s cheeks. 

Without a second thought, she snapped a picture—for posterity’s sake. She had to after all.

She already had the perfect place in mind for it to be framed…

* * *

Alya didn’t linger as long as she’d wanted to… she couldn’t. Ducking behind the massive Christmas tree, she stowed away her camera for travel home on the metro. Nino would be expecting her soon, and as the crowd started to dissipate, it would only be more likely that Marinette might notice her in the crowd.

If her girl wanted to pretend that she wasn’t playing the biggest hero in Paris, well, that was fine. For now…

She would have a very, very long conversation with Marinette on holding out on her secrets soon enough.

Besides, Alya smirked, peering back around the tree. 

Marinette looked like she’d have her hands full for a bit…

She watched as Chat Noir crept up beside Marinette, his additional height looming large against her friend’s more slight form.

His mischievous grin had popped up. Alya knew the second that Marinette had spotted it.

She ducked—a split-second too late to dodge the snowball he’d smashed onto her sweater…

With a truly merry laugh, Alya slipped out into the well-lit night. 

Marinette—and her co-worker— _definitely_ had to be the biggest children of them all…

She wouldn’t need to stay to know that Marinette wouldn’t rest until she got the upper hand. As fun as it would be to stay and watch, she was going to love putting her on the spot about all of this later.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Kellarhi for beta reading this one. This chapter was a beast...and a real challenge to finish off far away from home.

Chat Noir was one _cool_ cat. 

Of course, this _was_ after they’d spent the past few minutes tossing a flurry of snowballs back and forth at one another as the crowd had thinned out. 

His scarf had been pulled away in the earliest bit of the battle, and now? He was half frozen to the spot. Not the least of which was because of the snowball that Ladybug—well, Marinette—managed to stick down the back of his costume.

The triumphant smile on Marinette’s face as she relentlessly evened the score? He wasn’t sure anyone else could have properly done Ladybug justice. Honestly, that smile alone had totally been worth the chill. Of course, it wasn’t entirely enough to actually _warm_ him up. 

Her face fell when she watched his shoulders hunch, looking every ounce the drenched cat as the icy snow melt hit against his back. He tried not to focus on the wet, icy dregs slipping down his spine.

She worried her lip, anxious blue eyes melting his heart.

Unfortunately, his teeth chattering didn’t exactly calm her growing sense of guilt. 

Chat Noir smiled softly. “It’s _snow_ big deal, m’Lady.”

She didn’t even roll her eyes—didn’t even groan.

But she also didn’t hesitate. “C’mon, Kitty,” she whispered, cuddling up to him and sharing her every spare bit of warmth as she scrambled to get them both back inside quickly.

They’d made an earlier than expected exit, yet only a few minutes early if the clock at the square was any indication. 

Of course, if she’d _wanted_ to give him a hug to help him warm up…

Well, who was he to complain?

* * *

Marinette fussed, finding the first towel she could once they’d walked inside. “You should go get dried off.” 

The white towel was dropped onto his head, drying off the little bit of ice still clinging at the ends of his hair that was just starting to melt down onto his neck.

“We still have a few minutes until the staff party starts,” she reassured, patting his shoulder fondly. “So you should be able to change into your backup costume and let that one dry out for tomorrow.”

He nodded, eyes peeking out from under the towel. “Are you still planning to head up and see Santa for a bit?”

She shrugged. “He did promise he had something to help warm us both up more quickly.” A slow smile slipped cross her lips. “And I think we could both use that right about now.”

He nodded, tugging off the heavy mittens as she ushered him over to his own locker room. “See you up there?”

Ladybug nodded, waving a mitten at him. “As soon as I can, yes.”

* * *

Most of the store closed early and they had catering and the exchange in the back offices and break rooms. A few of the other Ladybug and Chat Noir actors were apparently going to stop back in for the exchange also, and it would be nice to see them outside of typical work duties.

He hadn’t minded the late notice extra shift… he’d almost wished he’d been called in as the actual Chat Noir—especially to fend off against the cold. But it was kind of nice to have the superhero break, and to actually pick up a paycheck while he mostly spent the whole evening playing around. Besides, his time with Marinette like this was drawing to a close…

He was super thankful that the department store had issued several suits to each actor as he swapped into his secondary outfit. As fun as it had been to have the impromptu snow battle, he really was chilled to the bone. There was no way he could have stayed in it much longer—which would have meant a miserable trip home since he wouldn’t be able to attend the party without one. He put the drenched suit on a hanger; it would be dry by morning.

At least he hadn’t managed to get his sweater wet. He tugged it back over his shoulders.

Before heading upstairs, he poked his head into the party room and snuck Plagg a bit of extra cheese from the catering trays. It wasn’t Camembert, but there were enough options and amounts for Plagg to spoil himself rotten.

He grinned at the mental pun as he scaled the steps up to the little hidden office.

* * *

The kids had been particularly rough that day, hanging all over the pair of them… and they all needed a bit of extra fortification before going out to brave the cold again. Ladybug lightly knocked when she reached the room. 

The old man chuckled as he answered the door. “Beat your partner up here, did you?”

Ladybug smiled. “I wanted to make sure he got dried off. The endless hot chocolate only does so much… and neither of us can really afford to get colds so close to the holiday.” Ladybug gave him a small grin before making a beeline for the open bottle of wine that Santa had out on the table.

He smiled at that. “I’m starting to feel a bit more weary.” He snagged a dark green bottle from the closet. “I can only handle a glass myself. But you both are more than welcome to stay and warm up for as long as you like.”

“Shouldn’t we lock the door?” Ladybug inquired. “I’m sure HR wouldn’t exactly be happy to see this…”

“I usually don’t. The lock can be a little finicky.” Santa explained, pouring out a set of glasses for each of them. “Besides, they’re bound to have a little extra at the party downstairs as well, so it’s not as big a deal as you might imagine. It just won’t be as nice as this bottle, I assure you.”

Chat showed up at the door—now changed—raising a gloved hand to knock just as she opened it.

He beamed down at her, his smile infectious. 

“Warmer now, Kitty?”

He nodded, ducking his head as he stepped into the room, feeling more than a little flushed. “A lot warmer, actually.”

Santa nodded. “They turned up the heat in here a bit earlier for the party.”

Marinette’s brows arched. “So they would bother with that now?”

Santa laid a finger beside his nose. “There are more people back here to complain about that tonight, aren’t there?”

She shook her head, carefully tugging the woolen material up over her head and clutching her sweater in her lap. 

Dutifully, Chat followed suit before dropping down onto the couch beside her.

Amused, Santa sipped his own glass of wine and shed the heavy outer robes he’d been wearing. 

Santa handed them both hangers, and they used them to put up their sweaters so the material wouldn’t wrinkle. As she and Chat were occupied, he dug into his little bag, fishing out a tiny velvet pouch.

Santa had a little momento for each of them as they sank back into the well-worn couch. They set their wine glasses down on the table as their older coworker handed them both a matching pair of “Santa’s Helper” pins. 

It was clear to her—even if Santa hadn’t said—that his wife had likely made these for him some time ago, before her health had turned suddenly. The details were a bit subtle, but that’s where the beauty was; it appeared to be a generic holiday pin until you looked a little more closely at the looping script. 

The design seemed to be traditional; it was heavy, but their pins were well thought out and expertly executed. Marinette’s ungloved fingers slipped over the sleek, embossed surface. Chat leaned over, softly knocking against her shoulder as he held up his own pin in comparison. 

“Thank you!” Chat Noir beamed, already affixing the pin to his costume.

Marinette smiled over at Chat softly before echoing his sentiment. “I agree. I really, really appreciate this pin. It’s such a kind gesture. And a lovely reminder of this whole experience.”

She didn’t dare to say it, but it really was one she at least wasn’t likely to forget any time soon.

Years ago, she would never have dared to try something like this job. But right now, she couldn’t imagine anything she would have enjoyed more.

Santa quickly polished off his glass, before taking the rest of his bags from the wardrobe for the night. “I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciated working with you this season. May we work together again someday,” he said. With a cheery wave, he headed off towards home, leaving them both to finish their glasses in relative peace.

* * *

The silence that fell between them felt deafening. It was wrong, somehow, not to have Chat’s happy-go-lucky chatter lilting in the air... and it seemed that maybe he also felt it since he was nervously swirling the wine around in his glass. 

Marinette mentally floundered, searching for some handy solution. Of course, there were only hints of the holiday everywhere but she ran with it. “So, I feel like I have to ask. What _do_ you want for Christmas?”

Chat Noir beamed. ”I want nothing more than to spend the day with friends—the people I love… I have spent long enough off by myself.”

She blinked, feeling oddly uncertain. “And, do you have someone special then?”

Chat Noir smiled fondly. “I have an old friend—she is special to me. Always has been…” he trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. “But, she's never wanted anything romantic.” His smile slipped away. “Not from me, anyways.”

“Oh…” Marinette breathed. 

The shock and surprise in her exclamation was palpable—almost fizzing in the air between them. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part… but there was something in the way she’d said it that tugged at him. The word seemed almost… hopeful? 

Silently, she worried her lip before her tongue darted out to smooth it over—she tried to redirect the conversation so she wouldn’t have to think too much over what he’d just said. 

“Working here has taken up a lot of time this season,” she started, “Without this job, you probably would have spent more time with those people. Do you regret working here?”

He smiled dazedly. “Not at all. I’ve been making new friends, after all. And the kids have been fun to work with.” He chuckled, feeling his muscles protest from some of the extra abuse he’d taken. He rubbed his shoulders to soothe the aches… “Mostly, anyways.”

She giggled at that. 

Impossibly, it seemed like his smile only widened.

“And the extra cash has been helpful. I have a friend who has done far more for me than I could have ever asked. He’s… been eyeing something for a year or more. Something that would help him with his career.

“I only have a few friends… but they’re really good ones. Lately though, it really does feel like they’re pulling away. Or just… leaving me behind. It would be nice… to maybe be able to hang out with you after all of this is over.”

Ladybug—Marinette—sipped her wine… blue eyes peering speculatively over the rim of the glass. 

The soft curve of her lips into a sweet smile had nearly done him in.

But it was her whispered “ _Purr_ haps” that had assured it.

* * *

Once they'd drained their glasses, cleaning them out in the sink in the hall, they decided it was time to join the party downstairs. They’d been worried about the alcohol for nothing. Clearly the store was being a little more reasonable as everything was closing down a bit earlier this evening. 

She lingered close to him as the Thieves Christmas Exchange started. Aside from Santa and a few of the other actors, they really didn’t know too many of the other employees as they were mostly stuck in the back of the house. He was feeling kind of anxious about not knowing anyone else and figured she must be as well, but for as close as she stuck to him… well, he’d never seen her act so freely before. 

And for as long as they’d been good friends… that was kind of an amazing thing.

Apparently, everyone at the party had grazed at the snack tables for the first twenty minutes or so, while they'd been occupied upstairs—it left the table pretty well picked over. So when his turn came to grab a gift, he ended up stealing the cookies from Tom and Sabine’s bakery from someone else.

Marinette looked entirely amused… although he hadn’t missed the fleeting moment of panic in her eyes.

The gift he’d supplied for the exchange was a gift card for a fabric shop… and a few notebooks. One of the books had a lovely pink leather cover; after all this time, he knew just what would appeal to her.

As he’d hoped, she’d stolen that one… and the girl she’d grabbed it from hadn’t seemed too broken up about it.

* * *

As the exchange continued, Marinette decided to do a little more digging into her partner’s life. “So you had a girlfriend?

Chat nodded slightly. ”She's still a friend. A good one. It was just clear—to her, a bit earlier than I ever realized—that it wasn't really going to work with us. 

“I was always really busy and didn't have a lot of time for her. Especially when I was younger. But I really hated being alone. Actually, I still do,” he amended, and turned his gaze from the gift stealing to his partner again.

“We were a lot alike,” he explained.

Marinette frowned, absently swirling around the reddish liquid in her glass. “I… had someone like that. He was the sweetest guy, really. He knew I had feelings for someone else and walked me through that heartbreak.” She slumped back against the seat. “But I was always bad at talking out my feelings when my heart was on the line…”

He set the wine on the table in front of him—maybe drinking right now wasn’t the best idea. 

“But talking to him was _always_ easy. In retrospect, maybe that should have been a hint.”

Marinette’s nose wrinkled up, downing another large gulp. “In the end, we were just a little too similar. All the flaws I saw in myself just started to get on my nerves a little more—and on his, too. We finally realized that as much as we liked each other, _being_ _together_ wasn’t helping us to be better.”

Chat Noir exhaled. He probably shouldn’t have felt such relief at what she’d said. But hearing those words from her had only continued to reassure him who was hiding behind that mask.

“My ex-girlfriend—well, she understood a lot of what I was going through… only… that didn’t exactly help. She deals with life a lot differently than I do, so even though she could relate, her advice just wasn’t helpful…” Chat Noir flinched. “In the end, I think my situation may have been worse than hers…” 

Chat Noir shrugged. “But ironically, that probably made things even harder on her. I didn’t have as much time for her as she deserved, so when she wanted to end things, it wasn’t so bad. She didn’t have a lot of friends, and while we were together she got to make a lot more which I was happy about. She even found the guy she’s with now. I wish her all the best, and we’re still friends.”

“You’re a good guy.” Marinette tilted her head, resting her cheek against her own palm. “We're just both a little hopeless.”

He peered over at her. She was masking the softest blush behind sips of wine, leaving him no choice but to polish off his own glass of wine. “It doesn’t help that dating is really hard when everything seems super busy,” he replied behind a large gulp of his own.

It was only a few minutes later, when the warmth of the wine was going to his head that the real truth of his words started to sink in.

It was giving him far more hope than he’d felt in a while.

With their jobs nearly at their end, he realized that both of their lives were about to become a lot _less_ busy.

And _maybe_ , he _mews_ ed. Maybe dating wouldn't be so hard after all.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Enberlight for helping to beta read this fic! <3 <3 <3

Their final shift had come and gone as good things so often did—all too quickly. It was far sooner than either of them would ever be ready for.

It was the day before Christmas Eve, and the last day they were appearing within the store, since Santa would need to pack up his sleigh and deliver gifts. He would make a grand exit tonight, waving to the crowd of families who had gathered on the square before leaving by carriage in the Grand Christmas Parade. 

Ladybug sighed, gently fussing with her mask. This close to the holidays, the crowds inside had dwindled. Most of the families planning to get photos or talk to Santa had long since come and gone.

So now, there was more time to _chat_ with Chat Noir…

She smirked softly, half tempted to share the little pun he was sure to appreciate. 

Or at least for right now... for him to stare awkwardly between them.

Chat Noir fidgeted, shoulders slumping before he turning away from her. He was pointedly looking down at the ground, unwilling -- or unable -- to meet her eyes. 

Ladybug’s brows drew together. That was _weird_.

As another family wandered up, she plastered on a smile, fulfilling her promised duties.

Just like always…

The joyous child was there -- excited and free and positively photogenic -- and gone, all in the space of a few minutes.

But even the girl’s abundant energy couldn’t keep Ladybug’s eyes from anxiously darting over and worrying over her uncharacteristically silent partner.

Maybe Chat Noir had come to regret some part of the party after all… Or if maybe it was just her suit that had gotten him all riled up. 

It wasn’t all that long ago that he’d tried to let Marinette down gently after she’d confessed to “feelings for him” without the suit. Though, then, those feelings had mostly been her fervent desire to keep him from finding out just who was hiding behind her mask.

Her eyes slid shut behind the replica mask as her shoulders slumped. It would just figure that she’d be regretting that now…

Ladybug sighed, watching as Chat Noir darted around. 

Even as he pointedly gave her a little extra space, Chat Noir was still being helpful, moving the leftover bags into the back as the few remaining families headed out towards the parade. 

* * *

The jolly old elf himself carefully watched the pair of children dance around one another.

Santa frowned, knowing he would have to head off soon. Another set of actors masquerading as the heroes would accompany him up on the carriage as they wound through the streets of Paris. 

Chat's eyes seemed to look anywhere but at Ladybug...at least until Ladybug looked away from him. She obviously wasn’t happy with Chat Noir’s sudden withdrawal.

Of course, the poor boy was absolutely smitten, even if he hadn’t realized it yet.

This elf didn’t have any real magic of his own, but with a little push? Maybe those two could make a little of their own.

* * *

As the last few minutes of their shift wound down to a close, Santa was surprised to find himself embraced by the tiny super heroine.

“The both of you have been more than kind.” He smiled, eyes a bit misty. “I know it isn’t much of my business, but I did get to watch the pairs and pairs of actors filling in the roles. It’s clear you all had watched the heroes and done your homework...but you two always came off as the most real.”

Ladybug blushed at that, nibbling at her lip. “Well...thank you.”

Santa smiled. Perhaps she wasn’t quite as immune to her partner as he’d thought, even if she was certainly more hesitant than Chat Noir for some reason. “I hope it isn’t too presumptuous of me to say...but there might be something to it. The others...were ...polite, certainly. But they didn’t feel like a solid pair.”

She was quiet, though her bright smile had finally reached her eyes behind the mask.

“You two, though…” He trailed off. He couldn’t quite quash the hope that one or both would be brave enough to try to reconnect outside of their masks. “I feel like it would be a mistake for today to be the last day you see each other. A year is a very long time. Especially for someone so young…”

He watched her smile slowly fall. There was no doubt in his mind, she was gearing up to try and diffuse whatever well-meaning advice he was about to lay out…

He knew… he’d been there himself…

Humor slipped into his smile, as Santa felt around for something in his pocket…

His face went slack and ashen as his hands came up empty.

“What is it?” Ladybug whispered. Santa needed to head out. The crowds near the cash registers were growing restless.

“My timepiece...” Stunned, he pulled his pocket inside out, shocked eyes staring in fascinated horror at the hole in the well-worn fabric.

“What did it look like?”

He frowned, lines etching more deeply into his aged face. “Silver...a bit tarnished with a bit of scroll work etched along the edges. And... it had a picture inside…”

“Did you have another copy?”

He shook his head. “This was the one she’d given me when we’d gotten married.”

To her endless credit, she didn’t hesitate. She was bouncing back on her heels, before she’d had a moment to think of it again. 

Santa would need to make his grand exit. The store would be closing soon for the day, and there was no way he could come back in… not before Christmas… He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. “If it isn’t by the seat, it must be back up in the changing room.”

Marinette nodded, sprinting away and down the back hallways. 

* * *

As Chat Noir deposited the big prop bag of Santa’s toys in the storage area, he spotted Marinette, running into the back hallway and away from their lockers. 

Chat Noir held back, lingering a little longer. He’d wanted to let her say her goodbyes first. 

Curious, he ducked out into the main employee hallway to wish Santa well before he’d have to take off. 

He hadn’t expected to find the old man looking so distraught. He looked stricken. 

It was a look far too familiar to him. He’d seen it often enough on his own father’s face.

Chat Noir placed his hand on Santa’s shoulder. “What’s the matter?”

Silently, he held out the empty pocket. “Ladybug ran off to find it.”

 _It?_ His brows rose in question. But he didn’t speak the words aloud. He just ran, not even waiting to hear what was missing. “I'll go help her.”

There wasn’t a moment to spare. They’d all feel better once whatever was missing was back in the old man’s hands.

“Chat…”

He spun on his heel, looking over his shoulder before bounding up the stairs. 

“If I don’t see you before I leave, good luck.”

Chat Noir blinked, fake claws pricking into the wall. 

Wearily, Santa smiled. “Since all your shifts are now over, so is your contract. And hers…”

* * *

Ladybug scrambled up the steps, determination urging her into an outright sprint.

When she’d seen the wretched expression on Santa’s face, Marinette had felt her heart drop. 

Of _course_ he’d had a picture of his late wife…he’d kept it as close to him as he could manage, day to day. If only she’d known before, maybe she could have patched the hole... 

Crossing her arms over her chest, she shivered a little as the chill of the hallway started to register. So long as she kept moving, though, everything would be fine.

She’d already checked the cushions of Santa’s chair downstairs. So, his watch had to be up here somewhere. If she couldn’t find it quickly enough to get back to Santa, Marinette knew that all she would have to do is to put it in the manager’s mailbox to get it back to him after he left.

The candles were still set up in the window in the hall… and the door of his changing room stood slightly ajar.

The door creaked, as she pressed it open. She flipped the lights on, scanning the whole of the room.

A few plates of half-stale cookies were still tucked away.

Marinette turned the room upside down, searching for something not guaranteed to be there. She was methodical...but panicked. Sensing her growing agitation, Tikki snuck out of her hiding place to help look.

The girl frowned, finding her sweater -- and Chat’s -- were still in the room. 

She hadn't really noticed it was missing. They hadn’t gone outside again...not until she was bidding a fond farewell to Santa just minutes ago.

Ladybug slipped her eyes shut, willing herself to focus. To summon just to sort of luck she'd usually need in the real suit.

She knew the store would only be open for another hour or two...not enough time to do more than change out of the costume and hand it to the manager offsite. The whole store would be closed for the holiday. If she didn't find it now, she wouldn't have another chance to come back.

She didn’t have her phone...and there wasn’t one in the room. But she could stay a little later. Her parents and Alya wouldn’t be wondering where she was, they just make an assumption she's at the parade already.

* * *

Breathless from bounding up the stairs, Chat Noir raced down the hall. He could only hazard a guess what the old man would think was so dear.

But his breath threatened to quit altogether when he spotted costumed Marinette on her hands and knees, frantically scanning around on the floor.

Inhaling sharply, Chat Noir forced air back into his lungs.

“What are you looking for?”

“What?” She gasped, glancing up at him with a mildly horrified expression on her face. 

He leaned against the open door to steady himself, gesturing to the flurry of mess scattered upon the ground.

“Oh!” Blinking, she sat back on her heels, her expression rapidly calming. “It’s some sort of old style timepiece. He said it was a silver one…” Her head snapped back to the floor, floundering to keep looking. “I guess he’d had it with him every day...but his robe got a hole in the pocket.”

“Let me help you,” He murmured, transfixed by her softening smile.

“I’ve already been looking over here,” Marinette framed out the section in gestures.

Pulling his weight from the door, Chat Noir stepped into the room, settling himself down on his knees in a spot she hadn’t reached yet.

Both were so focused, that neither of them noticed the ominous creak of the door until it had nearly snapped shut.

Not until it was far too late.

Not until the lock loudly slipped into place.

Dumbfounded, Ladybug and Chat Noir both blinked, gazing at at one another.

Gaping with rapidly growing sense of terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing has been really a challenge for all sorts of reasons for me, one of which is probably clear if you have been on Tumblr today. 
> 
> I am still making progress on this fic. I already have nearly this same chapter size in the remaining future chapters drafted. I just need my brain to cooperate in settling all the pieces into place.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot even tell you how much I have struggled over this chapter...
> 
> It is the biggest chapter I have ever written, and my brain will basically be doing an enforced hibernation for a few days after this goes up.
> 
> Biggest kudos ever to Kellarhi for beta reading this monster. Also to Yunyin because she was helping me for the past few weeks with certain aspects of this chapter in particular. :3

“No…” Ladybug breathed, scrambling across the room. “Oh, _no, no, no_ …”

Adrien watched her, matching pace as quickly as he could outside of his transformation. From his knees on the floor, mid-search, he managed to reach the door only a split second after her.

“This can’t be happening.” Her eyes veered off, looking pensively over at the dressing and make up table.

She looked so panicked that he couldn’t help but try to swoop in and save the day; he struggled against the door.

The latch between the door and frame was holding firm—there was hardly any give in it. He knocked against it again; his weight landing heavily with a thud against the dark wood made it clear the door itself was very solid. 

Crouching down, he peered into the space between the door, trying to get a better look at the lock. It was a challenge from behind the mask, but he was hardly any stranger to getting locked away so he tried anyways.

He felt her warm presence beside him, before spotting the sheer look of determination on her face.

Adrien smiled, as he slowly shifted his balance to stand. At least _this_ time, he wasn’t alone…

Marinette squared her shoulders, placing her feet in an optimal stance. She grabbed for the door handle, twisting and pulling with every spare ounce of strength she could muster.

His eyes widened, gaze darting instantly back to her face in profile and then back to the door. 

The latch held firm but the door itself did manage to move. 

On sheer instinct, he whistled. “ _That_ was _impressive_.”

She flushed as she relinquished her hold on the handle. “I had to do a lot of lifting at one of my past jobs.” Shaking her hands, she glanced back around the room, her mind still racing. Shaking her head, she strode over to the dressing table. “Clearly, it wasn’t quite enough…” 

Adrien sighed, instinctively feeling his pocket. 

Only to come up empty…

Blanching, he glanced around the room. 

Plagg never usually strayed far. This suit wasn’t exactly as tight as his true transformation but it wasn’t as loose as his daily wear, either. 

It had been a challenge to keep his Kwami close during shifts. But afterwards, Plagg would dive into his locker for food whenever the coast was clear.

There was still a tray of cookies (and perhaps a bit of lunch) atop the side table along the back wall. That was most likely where he was hiding...

Marinette pulled out the drawers of the dressing table, peering inside and rifling around. She blew out a shaky breath, clearly coming up empty handed before turning towards that food laden table.

Where Plagg was almost certainly hiding.

What if Marinette found him first?

She’d seen a Kwami before. She must have even seen _Plagg_ before, when she’d been Multimouse.

But of course, his Kwami had decided it would be a great idea to dart out of sight. It wasn’t like Adrien could call him to come out. Not with Marinette right there… 

A cold thrill of fear chased down his back. He had to distract her. _Now._

“Do you think we might be stuck in here, then?” he asked hurriedly, and she swiveled to face him.

She nibbled at her lip, nose scrunched up adorably as she mentally ran through some options. 

Absently, his fingers slipped up towards the nape of his neck; it _had_ to be illegal for her to look _that_ adorable.

“I mean… I _hope_ not. I really wanted to find that watch and get it back to Santa.”

Adrien nodded, fiercely. “Why don’t we work on that, then? And maybe we’ll find… something _else_ that might help with the door.”

She treated him to a brilliant smile. “That’s a _purr_ fect plan, Kitty.”

Adrien gulped, flushing darkly—all the way to the tips of his ears—as he stepped over to the table. He murmured a sober thanks before staking his claim to search in that area of the room to keep his Kwami hidden.

To keep _her_ safe.

Adrien couldn’t bear the thought of putting Marinette at risk. Ladybug would never approve of him unveiling himself to a civilian. Even one she had trusted so much.

Besides, right now, he really wasn’t in a rush to leave her side…

He’d been very careful. After the party, he’d given her a little extra space to ensure she was not regretting their interactions. 

He wanted to tell Marinette how he felt about her, but age and wisdom both have made him a little more circumspect.

He couldn’t bear the thought that he could possibly scare her off, or screw up their friendship…

Because she’s the only one—other than Ladybug—who had ever managed to turn his head, and fully keep his attention.

* * *

Marinette peered back over at Chat Noir and then back to the door. 

She knew that there was certainly hope—Tikki could become intangible. And even if she couldn’t knock the lock out of place, there was always some sort of hope that her Kwami could find another way to get help to come up here and get them both out…

She couldn’t dare risk revealing herself, though. It still wouldn’t be safe—for either of them. She couldn’t risk transforming and summoning a Lucky Charm.

And there was _no way_ to get out… not with Chat Noir watching her like a very curious cat. 

Which itself was odd. He’d just spent the last two days taking a big, very noticeable, step back… giving her a little extra space. Far more than she’d expected.

Far more than she’d _wanted_ , if she was being entirely honest with herself. She’d thought their conversations had gone really well.

Her lips pressed into a very thin line—the way he was behaving was something to think about later, after Tikki helped them escape. Of course, all of that that was only a theoretical possibility, provided she could _find_ Tikki.

She shook her head, sighing heavily. There was no doubt in her mind that Tikki dove into hiding when Chat was approaching. 

It was why she’d been in such a state of panic when Chat Noir had first arrived. There was literally no one worse that could spot Tikki.

On the positive side, if Tikki was out of sight, that had to mean that there were no Akuma—or any other threats—on the radar.

Marinette tugged another drawer open, mentally expanding her search from rogue watches to include anything that might also work as a rudimentary lock pick. If only there was something in here she could find that he’d possibly buy as a means to break them both out of here…

They pored over the drawers, looking for something—anything—that might be able to get them out, but it looked like most everything had been emptied out of the room.

She blinked, collapsing onto a chair, and slumping back wearily… when suddenly, a thought hit her; panic had scrambled her thoughts, allowing her to gloss over one _very key_ fact.

She was in this room with _Chat Noir_. 

Her eyes drifted over to his form as he very carefully crawled around the room, scouring every available centimeter from eye level to floorboard.

She smiled at him fondly, watching his diligent search. 

If Chat Noir was here, that meant he had Plagg here, too. She could only assume that Plagg could _also_ pull off some of the same basic powers as Tikki.

So, he might be able to do something. Her brows furrowed beneath the mask. Except for the fact that he hadn’t tried yet.

But that wouldn’t make any sense…

Unless…

Of course, she smacked her head. Even if he didn’t know it, Chat Noir must have been worried about the same things she had been.

Strategically, she moved herself to the back wall, crawling down to the area behind the couch.

Out of clear sight of the door.

All she had to do was to provide him an easy opportunity! The Chat Noir she knew wouldn’t hesitate to try to save the day. She brushed her hands through dust bunnies under the back of the couch to give him time to act.

Anytime now.

Marinette bit her lip, studiously keeping her gaze in the exact opposite direction of the door.

She wasn’t very well going to tempt fate.

* * *

Silent minutes passed before Marinette sat back on her heels, frustrated.

She knew Plagg could sometimes be a bit of a hassle as a Kwami. Maybe his suit hadn’t really allowed anywhere for his Kwami to hide for the entirety of their shifts either, and Plagg was still hiding out in the locker? 

Marinette stood, her back a little sore and achy from the search. She arched her back, relishing a satisfying stretch before flopping onto the couch and sinking blissfully against the cushions.

She flushed slightly when she felt his gaze stray back to her. Turning her eyes away, she anxiously fussed with her hair as he slowly erased the space between them. "It looks like this is going to take a while,” she said, still trying to avoid looking up at him. “Even if we can find the timepiece, there’s no telling how fast we can reach someone who can get us out.”

Chat Noir shrugged, sitting down beside her on the couch. “I don't really mind. I didn't have any big plans for tonight anyways.”

She blinked, gaze slipping back to his in spite of herself. “Don’t you have anyone at home who will be missing you?” 

“I have a roommate who would notice, but I’m sure he’s got other plans for the evening.” He smirked, and mischievous humor lowered his voice. “He probably wouldn’t notice even if I got in a few hours late…”

Marinette chuckled, her legs folding up under her more comfortably atop the cushions as she turned herself a bit more towards him. “Well, it isn’t like we can call right now either.” 

Chat Noir’s smile widened. “I’m sure you have to have someone who will be missing you, too.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll see them soon enough. We’ll be together for the whole of Christmas Day, so...” 

* * *

The not-so-subtle silence that had fallen between them was deafening. 

It didn’t help one bit that in those fraught moments where he dared to glance over at her, _she_ kept watching him right back.

Adrien had been thinking about all of this for a while. He’d come to terms with the fact that he’d harbored a crush on Marinette for years. Plagg had known and had called him on it long ago. But the stars—and their respective relationship status—had never aligned. 

Not until _now_ anyways. 

Yet, she had told him, over and over, that she hadn’t thought of him as anything more than a friend. On more than a few occasions, he’d wondered (hoped even) that she might actually be playing a little coy.

These fabric masks had only proven to him that his instincts had actually been right.

His gaze kept darting back to her lovely blue eyes, wondering if maybe this really was his chance.

The unspoken words kept tripping at his tongue. Words were the very thing that usually came so easily to him. 

But they didn’t usually _matter_ so much to him. Not like this.

Between University, and life, and not getting to see each other in school every day, it was just natural Marinette had pulled away even more over the years. 

Santa had been right. This _was_ a perfect opportunity. 

This job had been the _perfect_ chance to reconnect and prove to himself that everything could be as wonderful as he’d ever hoped it might be with Marinette.

And it _was—_ things were even just as friendly as anything had ever been since he’d donned this fake suit.

After everything that had happened over the past few years, it sometimes surprised him that he could still hold out hope… and he couldn’t help but also hope that maybe she was feeling something more for him too.

“Chat?” She murmured, baffled by the intensity of his stare in their silence.

Her hand rose—a gentle blur of scarlet that slipped into his vision before he felt the gentle pressure at his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

His smile softened. “Just _purr_ fect.”

She’d rolled her eyes, but it didn’t detract from the fond smile that tugged at her lips. “You really are ridiculous…”

 _Now that_ sounded like a challenge.

Grinning, he moved to close the distance between them, his hand pressing down against the couch as he lifted himself just to scoot a bit closer.

Blinking, he looked down, halting in place. Right there, where he had pressed was a surprisingly hard spot in between the otherwise soft couch cushions…

 _Of all the rotten luck_...

He flinched, gloved hand lingering over the metal. There was no way he could cover this up. Not that he really _wanted_ to…

“Chat?” 

The lights flickered slightly as he peered over at Marinette. He searched her face, looking for some hint that she was thinking of him in the same way he thought of her.

This time with her was rapidly slipping away. Plagg would come back soon enough… and then he would be all out of excuses. 

He slumped back against the couch, picking up the timepiece from between the cushions.

“What would you say if I…”

“Oh!” She breathed, her fingertips lingering out to graze the aged silver in his palm. “You found it!”

She beamed, leaning over a bit farther—a bit clumsily, he noticed—to joyfully throw her arms around him. 

He almost had forgotten the question he hadn’t been able to get out. The question she _still_ had yet to answer.

Lingering beside him, she opened the timepiece up, looking at the picture. After a moment, her eyes met his. “That must have been his wife.” He leaned over her shoulder, mulling over the photograph—it seemed like it would have been taken in the late 1980s. It was colorized and a bid faded, but her dark hair and grey eyes were clear. “He said he’d carried it every day.”

“It makes sense.” Chat Noir’s gaze softened as he slipped the watch into her waiting hands. “He didn’t really want to do any of this without her.”

Marinette’s gaze snapped away, certain she was blushing darkly enough to match her suit. “I suppose it must have slipped out of his pocket. It might be a little too late to rush it out to Santa, whenever we do manage to get out of here. But at least we could give it to one of the managers to get it back to him.”

He smiled secretly. And, if he was able, maybe he could _purr_ suade the management to give him the address so he could have Chat Noir make a special delivery.

She pulled her legs up towards her chest, setting her chin atop her knees. Her bottom lip just barely started to quiver. “Think it will take long for someone to find us?”

He frowned, heading over to the table to see if there was anything worth snacking on in the interim. His eyes roved over the table, surreptitiously looking for Plagg as he did a quick inventory of what Santa had left over. “I dunno. Not many people usually head back this way.”

Chat noticed Santa had also left a box of sweets and a bottle of wine. He would buy him another… even buy him a whole case of bottles when they were out of here. He was used to going without food, but he hated to think she could be suffering when there were things to eat right here.

He tossed her a small bag of cookies and she caught it—with far more ease than he’d expected from Marinette.

“I usually have a bit more luck in finding things.” She shook her head, arms crossing, burrowed into the softer fabric. “Maybe if I’d started talking to him earlier we'd be done and gone by now.”

He watched her, a soft smile lifting his lips.

“Don’t worry about it.” He reassured her as he settled back down on the couch. “I don’t mind being here . Not if it’s with you. It’s nice to be able to do without a bunch of kids hanging off our arms.”

* * *

Marinette’s mind was racing, even as she’d cuddled up on the couch.

He was sad. She could tell, even if she couldn’t put her finger on why. She had long suspected his life hadn't exactly been happy, though she’d always been as careful as possible about asking her partner in truth about the details of his family. It was just too risky.

But now that she knew a little?

She couldn’t help but wonder just how lonely he’d been all along. 

Her mind drifted back to the box sitting on her desk at home. She wanted nothing more than to give it to him. But it wouldn’t really have made sense. Not without Ladybug giving Chat Noir his gift first. 

“Do you have big plans for the holiday?”

He smirked. “I thought I might serenade you with a few Christmas carols…” 

He’d only started to hum a few bars before she cut him off. 

“Oh, no.” She groaned.

He simply laughed. “Well, wouldn’t it be better to attract some attention? If there is someone near, they would surely want to investigate.” 

Her eyes narrowed as she fought off a smirk. “Yeah, but your _yowling_ would only drive them off.”

Chat Noir laughed harder at that.

She leered over at him. “Maybe you ought to keep your day job?”

He grew quiet—far more quiet than she’d usually seen from her partner. His soft green eyes watched her, speculatively. “I think I just _finished_ it,” came his sober reply.

Marinette’s chest squeezed painfully, feeling the weight of his gaze and the gentle emotion in his voice.

“Chat, I—” she started, but was stunned to silence when their room became suddenly and startlingly pitch black.

She heard his breathing speed up beside her. “Stay here.”

She nodded—not that he’d see.

She knew he was ambling aimlessly over to the light switch. Silly cat probably thought he’d still have his Kitty Vision attuned. 

To his credit, he only stumbled into furniture once before he reached the door. The soft flick of the switches made noise—but there wasn’t even the barest hint of light.

“Fantastic,” she muttered, as he shuffled back across the short distance. What if this was some sort of attack they really need to head out and handle?

He was on edge, muscles tensed as he sidled up beside her, listening more intently. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she could see him beside her. Those eyes didn’t glow, but she could see enough to tell he was decidedly uncomfortable.

“You don’t like cramped spaces?” Her fingers patted against his arm, comfortingly.

She heard his soft, weary exhale. “I’m not a big fan of feeling vulnerable....”

“I get that.” She was raring and ready to save the world. But a vulnerable Kitty? That was kind of new for her. 

He tensed even more, though he lowered himself to sit on the couch beside her. She watched him carefully, as he tilted his head and closed his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered back, anxious to fill the silence and soothe the heavy pit growing in her stomach—anxious to be sure that he was really alright.

“Trying to listen to the weather.” Chat Noir answered.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

He was surprisingly serious… but not in a way that made her fear he was about to panic. If anything, she recognized this tension more and more for what she’d lived through during the past several years.

“I know we haven’t always had the usual sort of outages…”

“The weather isn’t always so mild…” She snorted ruthlessly.

“Was that a joke?” He chuckled, his teeth a flash of brightness in the dark. 

She rolled her eyes, tapping his bell fondly. 

He went suddenly silent, his attention fully on her. 

“What was that one Akuma’s name, again?” 

“Stormy Weather…” Marinette whispered, automatically. Without hesitation. Without even thinking about it.

Even in the dark, it was obvious they were looking at one another oddly. They both felt it, she was sure, and they’d been feeling it all along—how strangely easy it had been to fall into their old patterns. In front of an audience was one thing… but even here and now, it was never more clear that their ease with one another never really went away.

She shrugged, trying to explain away her knowledge, while rubbing her arms against the growing chill in the air. “I had a few friends who were super into the Ladyblog when we were growing up.”

He chuckled, the warmth in his voice seeping into her bones. But only for a second. “I think I know a few people like that…”

Marinette hopped up quickly and stumbled across the floor, floundering until she grabbed the sweaters she'd found earlier. Squinting in the dark, she tossed one at him.

He looked at it, puzzled… and then began to tug off his gloves.

“What are you doing?” she looked mildly horrified.

“What does it look like?”

“Like you’re being ridiculous. It’s halfway to freezing,” she chastised. 

If there was more light, she would have seen his face burning with crimson. “Well,” he almost stammered, “you’re clearly cold. Skin to skin is the best method of warming people up—that’s how this works. Isn’t it? I mean, scientifically it's the most efficient way.” he offered his hand to her.

Her eyes narrowed. "Uh huh, sure"

“It’s true, honestly!” He frowned. “Though actually, maybe you should climb onto my lap… for insulation purposes…” his frown melted back into a mischievous grin.

“Oh my goodness, Kitty. Where did you even come up with this…?”

"So what if I enjoy a good romance… what's the big deal" he pouted.

She snorted. "Or a bad one..." 

He grumbled audibly as he finished shucking off his gloves and tugged the sweater over his head and into place. 

"Seriously.” Marinette chuckled as she did the same. “My friend made me read some _truly_ awful fanfiction a few years back. Bad romance and fanfic can be synonymous depending on where you look—I’ve encountered my fair share of it."

“Besides, we're not exactly hypothermic here,” she giggled, finally tugging the sweater down over her head. Her laughter was cut off suddenly as she let out an irritated noise. 

“What is it?” He’d cleared the space between them in an instant. 

“My mask just got hung up as I was getting this sweater on.”

He ducked down, fingers clumsily colliding with hers as they both tried to right her mask and the growing mess of her hair. Between them, it was still a little challenging in the dark.

“But…” he started as he lowered his hands from her face, “Do you _really_ need it?”

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn’t exactly trying to pull it off..." 

“I know,” he assured. "It’s just… If you just took it off, would that be so bad? Our jobs are all done after all..."

Marinette seemed to grow skittish, physically tensing up beneath his bare fingers where they lingered on her shoulders. 

“I mean,” Chat pressed the envelope a little. “Would it be so bad if we did spend more time together? Maybe after Christmas and all.”

“Chat—” She began to murmur sadly, and he cut her off. 

“This has just been so fun,” he whispered. “And, I’d hate to lose another friend.”

She hugged him. But she didn’t answer. She didn’t trust herself with the words…

“Sorry.” His shoulders slumped. “You don’t have to say anything. Really.” 

* * *

Much as she’d hated to admit it, he was right. Finally bundled up and cuddled together, the much needed warmth was hitting her—and quick.

They talked about anything _safe_. Running through their favorite games and foods and colors.

It came as no surprise to her that in a lot of ways their tastes were quite similar. 

* * *

He sighed, stretching on the couch beside her. Remembering that one of Santa's extra robes still hung in the wardrobe, he walked over and retrieved it before settling down on the floor. 

“What are you doing?”

He blinked before stating the obvious. “It’s getting late. I think I’m going to lay down on the floor so you can have the couch.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she frowned at him. “Don’t make me take you on the couch!” Even in the dark, his mind’s eye could see her face pale with perfect clarity. “Wait! It’s not like _that_!"

From his spot on the floor, his shoulders shook with silent laughter. It had been so long, he’d almost forgotten just how much Marinette would stumble over her words, sometimes. Her fascinating jumble of word salad was refreshing; half endearing because of the nostalgia, and half, simply because it was _so_ _her_.

She tugged his hand, pulling him—robe and all—back up from the floor. 

He sat on the couch, a little distance from her. They retreated to opposite sides of the couch and faced one another, leaning back against the tall arms and stretching their legs along the length of the cushions. She settled herself along the inside of the couch, leaving him to let his longer legs hang off the side. Chat tugged Santa’s robe over both of their laps, and it made for a great make-shift blanket. He grinned into the dark. “I’ve got ya covered…”

Her pained sigh was a treat. “I regret everything…”

* * *

The few minutes they spent tugging the robe back and forth between them made it all too clear that the current arrangement wasn’t going to work as well as they’d hoped. As usual, Marinette had come up with an alternate plan of action.

“We’re both adults here.” She murmured. “Surely we can share.” She looked up at him, waiting for him to say anything to counter her suggestion, but all he did was nod silently—his dark silhouette barely visible in the darkness.

Marinette sat up slowly, and then crawled across the couch to scoot next to him along its edge. Chat wordlessly raised an arm; she snuggled into his side, and he lowered his arm around her protectively. 

She looked up at him as he draped his arm around her—suddenly realizing how close they were like this. He stared back at the girl cuddled in his arms—neither dared to move an inch, though they didn’t pull back either. 

Errantly, she wondered if any of the extra senses he had as Chat had actually improved his normal senses after all this time, or if she’d be spared the embarrassment of him catching her expression. Even in the dark, she was worried she was too likely to give something away.

“I’m not sure if this is going to work either.” She turned her face away. “I half feel like I’m going to fall.”

“I’m not going to let you fall.”

“I didn’t think you’d try,” she rolled her eyes. “But you are going to have to sleep sometime…”

Chat Noir hummed before lifting her up and shuffling them both around in one fluid motion, settling her gently atop his chest and wrapping one arm around her to keep her safely from falling. “What about this?”

Marinette blinked, feeling her face warm far faster than the rest of her. “That should work.”

* * *

“It’s weird, you know.” Chat murmured. “You really do kind of smell like cookies, especially so close…”

Her shoulders tensed—Marinette was panicking, he was sure. Her eyes grew very wide, and for half a second, he thought she would pull away.

Carefully, he reached out a steadying hand, and gently massaged the tension from her shoulder. She reluctantly set her head back down on his chest.

He breathed out slowly to mask the heavy sigh that spilled past his lips. It seemed that she _really_ didn’t want him to know who she was...

* * *

Adrien rested an ungloved hand on her back… 

A faint smile lingered on his lips. His hands might be a little cold—even underneath the cover of the robe. But it was _worth_ it. 

Marinette had even grumbled at him to put them back on, but he wasn’t about to change his mind. There was too much risk that their clawed tips would poke into her back. 

Besides, it would have been awkward enough to pull out his contacts to sleep without removing them...

He was quick to reassure her that his hands would be warm enough under the robe that they burrowed under together. She was still a little hesitant with the intimacy of their closeness, and she’d asked him, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

"Don't worry, My Lady. This cat is a gentleman."

She smiled fondly. "I know."

He squeezed her a little tighter, only for a moment. She could never know how much those words meant—more satisfying, even, since they’d come from Marinette. He’d always valued her opinion, and no other civilian—outside of maybe Alya—had seen him succeed and fail from up close.

He could feel her pulling away slightly, to look at him in curiosity. He could see the silent question in her eyes.

He beamed at her. “You know? I don’t think the real Ladybug and Chat Noir ever had to cuddle up like this.”

She shook her head, carefully bracing her arm at his shoulder to not poke any bony elbows into his chest. “I can’t imagine they’d exactly have much opportunity. Besides, I’m not sure that quite meets Ladybug’s standards for professional behavior.”

Adrien chuckled loudly. He couldn’t help it. That was an understatement. “That may be true, but I have it on good authority—from the _Ladyblog_ itself, no less—that Chat Noir and Ladybug did actually kiss.” He smiled. “At _least_ once…”

“Hmmm…” Her chest rumbled against his. “Not sure they remembered it though.”

He pouted. For years, he’d wanted nothing more than to remember it… time and time again.

“I wonder…” She tilted her head. “Did that mean it wasn’t memorable?”

Absently, his hand rubbed her back, trying to not appear as wistful as he was actually feeling right now. “If it were _me_ , I’m not sure I’d want to forget…” 

She nodded, growing quietly speculative before she let her head rest back down against his chest, careful not to jostle his bell. Her free hand drifted down to lie against the other side of his chest. “You must have done a lot of homework for this role, too, right?”

He chuckled, hoping it would mask the way his heart was starting to race. Considering, it was hard to do anything else that would give himself away. “You say that like we both didn’t live through all the Akuma in Paris for years…”

* * *

Her breathing slowed, and the soft puffs of her breath slipped across the bit of exposed skin at his neck. It was warm. Blissfully warm. 

His muscles ached a bit, but having her here with him was worth the small discomfort. 

She was lying atop him, the softer planes of hers fitted neatly against his. Her lower leg was slightly bent with the arch of her foot grazing the back of his calf. She rested higher on his chest, far from the dangerous area that would cause any awkwardness. 

But he didn’t _dare_ to move. 

He didn’t want to scare Marinette away. He couldn't bear the thought…

He was nestled close to her, his lips rested recklessly close to her—just inches from her hairline. 

It had been nearly an hour now. Long enough that he was sure she must have drifted off, long ago.

In the long moments that had passed, he’d come to a decision. He wasn’t going to press her again, but he wasn’t going to entirely give up hope, either. When it came time for them to part in the morning, he was going to give her an email… one that she could use to reach out to him, if she changed her mind.

Adrien pressed a kiss to her forehead, practically ghosting across the skin near her hairline. 

“I hate that this will all be over when we wake up. I wish we could stay like this…” he murmured softly to himself as his eyes slid shut, and sleep claimed him.

* * *

Marinette’s eyes shot open wide.

She had been so, _so_ close to finally slipping off into dreamland to the steady, lull of his heartbeat. It was all too hard not to be affected by his proximity.

But man, if _that_ hadn’t woken her up.

She had to fight to contain a sigh. She was extremely flattered by his genuinely fond attention. And it left her with growing awareness that her own feelings were not exactly platonic… but it wouldn’t really be fair to Chat Noir for her to act on anything. Not without him knowing the truth. 

It didn’t help that her heart wasn't entirely turning him down, especially not when he's holding her tightly and treating her as if she were made of glass.

And he was right—their last shift was done. There was no obvious reason that they should continue to obscure their identities from one another. Would she be willing to try for something more with him? Other relationships had come and gone… and nothing had ever materialized from the one she’d always held out hope for…

She _liked_ him. _Truly_ liked him, far more than she'd ever realized. Where Adrien had been panic inducing, he'd inspired calm.

Where Luka had inspired… well… _too_ _much_ calm… there were these open lines of communication with Chat. They understood one another almost too well.

She gently threaded her fingers through his hair… absently smoothing bits along the nape of his neck to the sounds of his almost imperceptible snoring.

With Chat Noir... well, much though she’d hate to admit it, Tikki had been right. They balanced each other out in all the best ways.

She'd thought about that so much and so often… it was nice to just get a reprieve. Chat had always cared, and had been there for her. He was beside her for years, picking up pieces any time she'd faltered.

She'd feared he was a little lazy, reckless, and irresponsible… and in some ways she wasn't wrong. But he had _never_ let her down, at least not when it _really_ mattered.

Time and trust had done a number on her heart.

But somehow, Chat Noir had been entirely oblivious to Ladybug’s growing _felines_ for her partner. 

She nibbled at her lip, staring into the dim shine of his fake brass bell. Though her feelings had changed, what hadn’t changed was the fact that she was still desperate to keep them both safe. 

She knew without any doubt in her mind that the guy keeping her warm as she was trapped in this room was actually _her_ Chat Noir.

But she couldn’t really explain why.

That’s what made the prospect of meeting outside of the masks so dangerous. 

If they did meet, she would know for sure just who had been hidden behind the mask all along. She knew it would be almost impossible to pretend not to know once she found out; her poker face just wasn’t that good, so Chat would be able to tell something was up. 

And despite everything Fu and Tikki had ever told her, she knew in her heart that finding out who was behind that mask was something she couldn’t avoid—it was a battle she was destined to lose, and if she was being honest, she wasn’t sure she would want to win it anyways.

So, if this _had_ to happen, she’d prefer it to be on her own terms. After all, she still had a gift for Ladybug to give to Chat Noir tomorrow night. And then, maybe after Christmas— like he’d said—she’d be ready to _really_ meet him.

She had more than grown into her added responsibilities as guardian, and he’d been by her side all along.They’d survived five years and one super villain, she knew she could trust him with her safety. There was no question in her mind… she could also trust him to protect her heart.

Nuzzling closer to his chest, a soft smile tugged at her lips, and Marinette began to plan. 

She’d just sleep for a little while. While it was still so warm beside him. 

As she finally felt herself slipping into the pull of slumber, Marinette gently raked her fingers into Chat’s hair, jostling his ears a bit. As nervous as the thought of meeting Chat behind his mask made her, she knew that he would always be there for her.

After all, he’d been the one protecting her all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, yes. This is the chapter that I did 20K worth of set up just to write.
> 
> And yes, there are still two more chapters to go...
> 
> RIP me.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not-so-subtly ups the chapter count again.
> 
> Thanks as always to Kellarhi on the beta read.

The lights—and the heat—had finally returned. Of course, Adrien and Marinette were both sound asleep, far too tired to have noticed.

Plagg snorted, as he zipped out of the tiny drawer and off towards the door to escape the room. “They are _so_ dumb. The pair of them.”

Tikki was right on his heels. At least until she veered over towards the light switch. “Plagg,” Tikki whispered wearily, switching off the light switch before their charges could awaken. “They’ve both had a long day. _Just_ let them sleep and help me turn this light off…”

“What’s in it for me?”

Tikki rolled her eyes. “The wedge of emergency Camembert she’s got stuck in her bag downstairs.”

“Works for me,” Plagg confirmed, before throwing his weight in.

With the switch finally off, and the rest of the staff—even the janitors—safely away for the evening, the pair of Kwami swept downstairs.

Tikki slipped into Marinette’s locker, snagging the cheese from the tiny pouch in her bag.

“Won’t she notice?” Plagg hungrily snatched the morsel from her.

“Of course,” Tikki’s chirp echoed against the metal lockers in the otherwise silent room. “Then again, she’s been been suspecting that your chosen is the real Chat Noir for a few weeks now.”

Plagg cackled. 

“What?” Tikki frowned, definitely not quite expecting the depths of Plagg’s ill humor. “Plagg! It’s not that funny.”

“Oh, no.” He whispered, a nub-like paw wiping tears from his eyes. “It’s _funnier_.”

Tikki’s own paws crossed over her chest, looking every bit of her part of Ladybug. “Enlighten me.”

“Pigtails fooled him once, but not before the kid figured it out.” Plagg smirked. “My kitten has been a whole new level of smitten ever since.”

“Oh?” Tikki leaned in, nubs pressed together in half hopeful prayer.

“Smitten enough that he didn’t think she was Ladybug…”

Impossibly, Tikki’s celestial blue eyes widened in the dark. “He figured out she was _Marinette_?”

Plagg smugly took a massive gulp of his cheese, nodding as he noisily gnoshed. “Maybe even before she figured him out.”

Tikki’s smirked evenly matched his. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Plagg blinked widely. “Aside from endless amusement—and more than our fair share of heartburn while they simper and sigh at each other?”

“No, silly.” Tikki’s grin widened. “Two things: one of them is bound to stumble onto the truth sooner or later.”

Plagg snorted. “Unlikely. What’s the other?”

Tikki rubbed her tiny paws maniacally. “We need photographic evidence.”

“So we get Marinette’s phone?”

“No…” Tikki mused. “If Adrien has figured out she’s Marinette and her phone suddenly appeared, it would be way too suspicious…”

“So we grab his?” Plagg’s brows furrowed. “I dunno. Adrien is already going to be irritated that I snuck off.”

Tikki scoffed airily, darting with a purposes to the men’s locker rooms down the hall. “ _Something_ tells me he won’t be. Especially after he sees this little souvenir.”

* * *

Alya’s fingertips tapped across the table in a satisfying rhythm. Nearly all of her presents were wrapped and hidden away at her parent’s house. 

She was just down to this last one. 

Leaning into Nino’s legs as he sat in front of the couch beside her, Alya debated over which pictures to use for the collage laid out on the low coffee table in front of them. 

She picked up one of the two final contenders, and held it up to Nino so she could get a second opinion. “How about this one to go in the collage?”

“For Adrien?” Nino’s brows rose as he tugged the headphones away from his ears. 

Alya nodded, smiling over at him. She tugged the blanket covering her legs, bundling herself more tightly beneath the coffee table.

He wrapped an arm about her shoulders, and her left hand rose to rub his arm fondly.

With an answering grin, Nino snuck in to press a soft kiss to her cheek before looking down. With a frown, he inspected the array of pictures she’d set on the table in front of him. “I thought you had decided on that one?”

He tapped on the photo in question—one of the candid shots she’d captured of Marinette at work as the Department store Ladybug. Her expression was soft and warm, as she gazed at Chat Noir who was just out of frame.

“I mean, _I_ like it.” Alya sighed, leaning back against him. “But maybe I’m not the best judge of what might appeal to your best bro.”

“You could always do both.” Nino shrugged. “I know he’s a massive Ladybug fanboy, but otherwise, your guess is as good as mine, Babe.”

Alya grinned. “I know. It’s just absolutely a bonus to me that this one is really Marinette.”

Nino chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek before turning back to the stove. “You haven’t given up hope on that?”

She snorted, eyes narrowing as she peered back up at him over her shoulder. “When have I ever given up on anything? So, maybe the water _has_ been a little choppy, but the waves have yet to topple my ship.”

His smiled lingered, though she knew the words that were bound to trip over those lips. She’d heard them often enough before.

And so, she beat him to the punch. “I’m just amazed they both keep ending up single, and nothing ever seems to come of it.”

Nino sighed. “You know that Adrien’s Dad did an awful lot of damage.”

“He’s needed a friend, and Marinette has done so well with that. The only problem is that it’s next to impossible to get them in the same room with their crazy schedules.”

“Speaking of…” 

“Hm?” She leaned back, looking up at him.

“Did we get them both to confirm they could come over tomorrow night?”

Nino shook his head, rubbing his hand over his face. His brows drew together as he pulled up the last unanswered message left up on the screen of his phone “Adrien has been a little preoccupied lately. I know his usual schedule and he actually hasn’t outright committed to any plans… at least not any that he wanted to share.”

Neither of them really wanted Adrien to be alone. She’d heard Adrien had gotten some secret modelling gig that was busy this winter—probably for something due out in the spring. 

He had grown far more quiet and withdrawn, especially after his Father was quietly retired under a heavy veil of secrecy last year. 

The rest of Paris might have been safely in the dark, but they both had both been there, battling beside Ladybug when the final battle went down...

Watching as Hawkmoth was unmasked as Adrien’s own Father.

Alya nibbled at her lip, watching Nino pace the length of the apartment as she fired off her own message to Marinette. 

* * *

By the time they both had cuddled up into bed, the worry on Nino’s face hadn’t exactly subsided. 

Since neither of their best friends were answering their phones, they hadn’t been able to confirm that they’d be showing up for Christmas Night.

“Aren’t you worried about Marinette?” Nino murmured, tugging her close beneath the blanket. 

“Honestly?” Alya snorted, setting her glasses, and then phone, down on the bedside table. “Not that much. For all the years I’ve known her, she just does that sometimes. Besides, I know she had her last shift at the mall earlier. And I’m not all that surprised—she’d be busy. Especially if she still was being super flirty with the hot Chat Noir actor she was working with.”

Nino frowned in confusion. “I thought the whole point was to try and hook her up with Adrien…”

Alya shrugged. “Girl could use a bit more confidence in herself. I can’t help but remember all the stammering from her in lycée around Adrien. And you’ve seen the pictures: tell me she didn’t have this guy wrapped around her pinky finger.” She laughed. “If Adrien’s as into Ladybug as you think—and especially considering who he has dated? Confidence would be a perfect look on Marinette to catch his eye…”

Nino chuckled, cuddling closer to her beneath the covers, a little extra warmth against the questionable strength of the furnace that was struggling to heat their flat. “So you’re saying it’s just a bonus if Adrien finally gets a wake up call.”

Alya preened, wrapping her own arms over his. “Exactly. Not that much can happen in one night.”

* * *

When Adrien finally woke up, he felt extremely disoriented. 

He wasn’t sure what had woken him. Though his eyes were still closed, he could tell the room was dark—far darker than he was used to, so it wasn’t daylight that roused him. Maybe it was the warmth, the gentle rush of the heater working overtime to fill the room. But it was clear soon enough that it wasn’t the only reason he’d felt so hot, after the slight resettling of weight on his chest.

That, too, was unusual. 

He frowned to himself as he realized his eyes were gritty from dryness, and they were slightly burning. Adrien blinked, letting his eyes water a bit to soothe the discomfort. 

The next thing he was aware of was the familiar feel of a mask on his face. It wasn’t the easy covering of his transformation. The stiff fabric was a little itchy against his cheeks and, as he dared to open his eyes slightly, he confirmed to himself it was slightly askew.

His bare fingertips brushed gently against a pair of pigtails, mentally connecting the spots…

He drew his hand away from her hair, carefully resting it ever so gently on her back. Savoring the soft rise and fall of her back beneath his fingertips. 

But otherwise, he didn’t dare move. 

Mentally, Adrien took stock, as the events of the night prior started to permeate his sleep fogged brain. He was thankful he’d thought to tuck his contacts into the suit pocket right before they’d fallen asleep. But there was no telling if they’d held up...or even if he could put them back in safely without rinsing them in solution.

He dared to open his eyes a little, peering down to see if he might be able to recover them. 

Of course, Marinette’s head was nuzzled to his chest half atop that pocket.

He inhaled sharply, anxious fear slipping in. There was no telling how long it might take for Plagg to come back—or if someone had managed to get the door open...

With a barely audible grumble, she’d cuddled into him more tightly, her legs tangling with his.

Adrien gulped, growing as still as possible as his face only warmed all the more.

It wasn’t like he could ever tell Marinette just how often he’d been inside her room, but he could vividly recall the large cat pillow on her bed.

Biting his lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity, Adrien let his eyes slip closed. Right now, he was a little more to her than a living, breathing cat-pillow…

Adrien smiled, peering down at her. 

Her pigtails were mussed, slipping free of the Ladybug outfit’s sleek perfection. One of the locks that had come loose was tickling his nose. 

He was even pretty sure she might have even drooled a bit on him. Not that she could help it of course, and he found that he didn’t mind all that much. Holding Marinette like this, in his arms… this might be the last time he could really count on her letting him get this close.

It was taking every spare ounce of control from him to stifle the instinct to purr contentedly.

Sighing softly, Adrien closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep a little longer. All so she would sleep a little longer, too. 

So he could savor it for just as long as possible.

* * *

Awareness—like the warmth from the room—eventually seeped back into Marinette’s mind. 

She stretched out.

Until she’d heard the grunt coming from beneath her.

Panicked, her eyes flew open, gazing into soft green eyes. 

Marinette was a bit breathless, stunned with the realization she must have she’d buried her fingers into his hair during the night. She scrambled back contritely, situating herself on his legs and forcing the offending fingers into her lap.

Embarrassed as she was that she’d clearly been petting his hair, it only locked up the certainty in her mind. That was definitely his own hair, not a wig, which meant it was only even more likely that this was Chat Noir...

Marinette blushed, drawing up her knees to her chest. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen his eyes before. She'd technically seen them when he’d played at acting as Mister Bug, but she wasn't paying that close attention to them.

But now? She had been staring him in the face at all-too-close range.

When she dared to look back over, it was clear he was just as affected. 

She looked back, noting his ring. It was odd; his actual miraculous appeared active—if anything, it seemed almost a little more fake at the moment to match…

He breathed a real sigh of relief, as he stood, fixing his mask and running his fingers through his hair. He must have taken the same sort of extra camouflaging precautions with Plagg that she’d done with Tikki.

Sitting up, she slipped onto the couch beside him and smiled. _Clever Kitty._

“Huh…” She murmured, peering back over the couch towards the door. “There’s a phone…”

“Oh!” Chat Noir blanched, picking it up. 

Marinette blinked, piecing the puzzle together. It must be his. She detected Plagg’s hand in it… “I wonder if someone came in?”

“They must have…” Chat peered over at the door speculatively, before rushing over to check the lock. He frowned as the bolt still seemed firmly in place. “Must have locked behind them.”

She rested her head atop her arm over the back of the couch. “Is your phone working?”

He looked relieved she wasn’t questioning it. Or getting weirded out that someone had come in while they both slept.

Of course, she couldn’t very well tell him just how used she was to having a Kwami living (and sleeping) next to her.

“Let me send something to the manager....”

* * *

After a few short phone calls, the pair of them walked free of the little room.

Grabbing their few belongings, they walked out the door and down the stairs, free of their roles and responsibilities as Santa’s helpers.

“Hey…” He offered his hand as he paused on the landing between floors. Those oddly familiar green eyes beneath the mask were now clearly anxious. “Do you maybe… want to meet up? After everything is done today?”

She nibbled at her lip, placing her hand in his. Like she had done so many times before. “Maybe.” 

Chat Noir smiled. “What about something simple? Like coffee. Or maybe some pastries?”

Marinette blinked, tearing her eyes away from him. “How will we find one another?”

Chat Noir beamed, tapping his cell phone. “I could always give you my email address…”

She shook her head. “I mean...yeah, but how are we going to manage to spot one another, outside of these masks.”

Blinking, Chat Noir looked around for inspiration. His eyes widened as he pointed to her sweaters. “What about these?”

Marinette looked suspicious...but not entirely surprised. “So the store didn’t really buy them, huh?”

Chat smirked. “What do you think?”

Marinette grinned back at him. “I think that they might work…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the home stretch. I am hammering out the draft chapter details, but this one is mostly done!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Kellarhi and Enberlight for beta reading!

Marinette sipped the last of her chocolat chaud as she peered out the window of her room.

The softest flurries of snow fell like weighty feathers, clumsily wafting down through the skies to dust the windows and the ground below. It wasn’t likely to be anything that would stick around for long, but at least this Christmas was shaping up to a festive one.

It was Christmas Eve night, late enough that many children—and more than a few hopeful parents—had already fallen asleep.

Her own parents certainly had.

She smiled, bundling up a bit before she transformed. Tikki was freshly fed from the little plate they’d nominally still set out for Santa—tradition, her parents had insisted—and ready to go.

After the red light washed over her, Ladybug wound an extra scarf around her neck and grabbed the satchel she’d made specially some years ago to carry the tiny gift without dragging her back as she whisked across the skies of Paris.

Millions of lights traced across the skyline. Far more than usual for this time of year.

But she was rushing towards the biggest beacon of them all.

Traffic was far lighter than she’d expected. With the added hush of the new-fallen snow, it was a little jarring.

It was a fairly _Silent Night;_ but she was certain her Kitty would fix that.

She smirked as she swooped into landing on one of the lower rungs of the Eiffel Tower. 

* * *

Chat Noir hadn’t kept her waiting long.

She hadn’t expected just how much she’d been anticipating his arrival. Not until she’d spotted him on his baton, vaulting over the rooftops. Not until she’d bounced on the balls of her feet.

And despite all the wind whipping about her face, she really hadn’t been feeling the cold.

When she was sure he had gotten close enough to spot her, Ladybug aimed her yo-yo up, darting further up the tower, onto one of the beams where only they could safely reach.

“Good evening, m’Lady.” He landed into a half bow. 

He was wearing the old scarf she’d made him the year before, she noticed. 

Smiling fondly, she handed handed Chat his gift. She’d gone a little overboard on the wrapping. Even a ribbon with hand written puns he’d be proud of…

Chat tore the paper slowly, just as carefully as his claws might ever allow. If he could save that wrapping, he was going to...

He looked up, shocked. Gently, he lifted the soft fabric up for inspection, marveling over even the smallest of details. There were soft knit claws at the edge of his finger tips. The palms had paw beans reminiscent of those at the bottom of his boots.

“You made this, Bugaboo?”

“I did.” She grinned, entirely satisfied. “For some silly reason, there’s just not enough Chat Noir gear out there.”

He wanted to cry, jaw dropping in undisguised awe. As Chat Noir (and as his model self), he’d gotten dozens of handmade gifts over the years. But the special detail and attention she had always put in… never failed to amaze him.

In fact, the only work that had ever even come close had been from Marinette.

“You had mentioned how cold it was at your new place. Maybe you can’t always wear them outside… but it would keep you from freezing there. Especially considering how slim you are…”

Chat hugged her, clearly ecstatic, but doing his best not to be too flirty.

She beamed up at him as he pulled away. 

Beaming, he pulled a tiny card out from his suit pocket. “Then I’m sure I got you the right thing!”

Ladybug peered down at the card he’d placed in her gloved hands. “What’s this?”

Chat Noir chuckled. “You’re not the easiest Lady to buy for you know, especially with these masks keeping so much hidden. But I figured with as creative as you are, a gift card for an art supplies store wouldn’t go wrong.” 

She laughed at that. “That is definitely a good option.”

* * *

They rushed around the rooftops together for a little while longer, partly just to stay warm. Ladybug and Chat Noir lingered, side by side on the warmest rooftop they could find. 

“Did you ever figure out your plans for the holiday?” Ladybug asked, hovering close to him for the warmth. 

Chat Noir smiled. “It’s not going to be as lonely as I'd feared.”

“Oh?” She smiled secretly. She blinked guilelessly. “I know you’ve said it can get a little rough at this time of year…”

“Maybe.” Her kitty blushed, winding the scarf neatly around his neck… but not before she’d _spotted_ the rise of pink on his cheeks.

She chuckled softly, hiding her curved lips behind her own scarf. 

Of course, that drew his gaze. He was quiet for far longer than she’d come to expect from him, but eventually he spoke up. “You have plans, too?”

Mmmhmm,” she murmured. 

“Oh…” Chat Noir was clearly a little surprised, but thankfully not as pouty as he used to be. 

Her smile widened, and she leaned against his shoulder, looking out at the twinkling lights. “There’s this guy… he kind of _surprised_ me.” Her eyes darted to his, careful not to let herself betray too much of her feelings. “Honestly, I didn’t think I was going to be as fond of him as I have been. But I think he’s kind of grown on me.”

Chat Noir’s green eyes widened as he stood beside her, his taller form positioned just so to block the brunt of the now rapidly falling snow. A sweet smile tugged at his lips. “I’m happy for you, Bugaboo.”

She beamed at him, gently knocking her shoulder against his playfully. “I am too…”

* * *

Early the next morning, Adrien stopped in to celebrate Christmas with his old bodyguard and his family. The larger man was still as silent as ever, but you wouldn’t have noticed with the boisterous little ones running around the house. 

Out from under his father’s thumb, it seemed that they both were allowed to be far happier. 

The Gorilla (he couldn’t entirely call him anything else in his own mind, even after all these years), smiled fondly upon his family, swooping and scooping up the tiny toddler who was just about to crash into a wall before disaster struck.

When it came time to open presents, Adrien had two cards. One from the Gorilla himself -- a picture of him beaming with his new family.

And then, there had been a message from Nathalie. Adrien sighed, going quiet as he read over it. At least he knew his Father wouldn’t be entirely alone. Nathalie was there with him, wearing her matching monitoring anklet. 

Adrien winced. He was still due to drive out and visit the pair of them nearer to the end of the winter break. That was a troubling thought...

But the moment his old bodyguard placed a comforting, hulking hand on his shoulder, Adrien knew he wouldn’t be driving out there by himself. 

* * *

Wearily, Adrien trudged back through the snow to his flat a little bit after noon, only to find a message from Nino that Marinette was supposed to stop over later that evening. He tried to throw together something nice from the limits of their fridge.

In a panic, he rushed around the apartment, scrambling to clean everything up all in one go. Of course, he’d only been living outside of the mansion for a short while, and the entirety of his cleaning knowledge had been gleaned by watching Nino and Alya over the past few months; it could only take him so far...

With a little extra cheesy inducement, Plagg had helped. A _little_.

By the time Alya and Nino got back in around the middle of the afternoon, he was desperately trying—and failing—to clean up a storm. 

The laundry was done (but unfolded). The dishes were drying. The counters and table were washed. Adrien had the broom out and swept the hardwood floors. 

Not that the piles of books and mail—and other junk they had managed to accumulate—were staying neat and tidy before he could scoop them all up. 

Alya simply grinned at the sight before her, taking a bit of pity on him. She marched over to the fridge, quickly taking stock. “I’m going to stop past at Mom’s. She mentioned we could take some leftovers off her hands. She always makes enough to feed an Army. Well, Nora at least...”

She pressed a quick kiss to Nino’s cheek and headed back out into the snow.

Meanwhile, Nino rolled up his sleeves and dove in, right beside him.

* * *

By early evening, Adrien and Nino’s apartment was warm. Of course, the stove was running hot, warming a bit of the extra food from Alya’s mother and running the kettle for tea. 

When Marinette finally knocked at the door, she arrived with a bag of pastries in one hand, and her bag of presents in the other. Her parents had practically insisted upon it; they’d been feeding all four of them for so long, it must have seemed second nature to them.

Shuffling the bags into one hand, Marinette rang the buzzer.

Alya practically knocked her over at the door, as the boys both headed out to greet her. 

Nino hugged her first, once Alya stepped aside. “Hey, Marinette!” 

“Hey!” She beamed, bags still hanging from her hands and knocking into his shoulders.

Adrien smiled, offering his arms out for a hug as Nino took the bags from her hands.

He might not have hugged her first, but he was definitely angling to hug her the longest. The one evening cuddled together on the couch had barely seemed long enough. “How was your Christmas?”

“Good!” Marinette confirmed. “My parents decided to spoil me a little bit…”

* * *

After they’d all had a glass of wine, they each started to pass around their gifts. 

Adrien had been far too generous to her, bringing her a few out of print design and sample remnant books from his Father’s collection. Not that his Father would be using them much anymore, but it couldn’t have been easy for him to go through the belongings that hadn’t traveled out to the countryside and figure out what might be nice for her. 

Alya gave Adrien his gift. He tore open the paper, only to blush furiously. He stashed it back in the paper, flaming red to the tips of his ears. He stammered a hasty thanks, before stealing out of the room to hide it away.

Marinette looked between Alya and Nino suspiciously. “Alya…” she warned.

Alya cackled merrily. Nino looked close to crying with stifled laughter.

“It seems Adrien is a pretty big Ladybug fan.” She smirked, in explanation. “I just gave him a collage of all the best shots from this year, including their appearance for the Christmas lighting ceremony.

Marinette flushed. “Oh…”

Alya couldn’t know that wasn’t actually Ladybug there.

Oh, no… She gnawed at her lip, mulling the seriously smug expression on her best friend’s face. Alya _definitely_ did know. And she was definitely up to something.

Marinette sighed. Even as she’d lost hope, Alya never had. But it seemed anything with Adrien had long ago been clear to be a hopeless case.

She handed over her package to Alya, a sweater she’d knitted in an array of deep muted jewel tones that would compliment her natural coloring. Nino was opening up his own gift when Adrien finally thought it was safe to come back out of his room.

She’d hand stitched a pair of black leather gloves for Adrien, and tried not to blush horribly at the winning, heartfelt smile he gave her, and ignore the dodgy things it was doing to her heart.

“Girl!” Alya gasped, her fingers tracing over the chevron pattern woven into the body of her new sweater. “This is amazing! How long did it take?”

Marinette shrugged. “A few weeks. It was tougher to find the right yarns.”

Alya flushed prettily, carefully tugging the sweater over her head.

Marinette was about to fuss about the way Alya was handling the sleeves and stretching… until a gleam caught the corner of Marinette’s eye.

“Holy cow, Alya!” Marinette yelped. “Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who got spoiled.”

Alya snickered, letting her best friend tug her hand and get a better view of the fairly large ring on her hand, along with an intricate pattern of henna. 

Marinette’s brows furrowed. “ _When_ were you going to tell me?”

Alya’s laugh grew louder. “Now, of course. Nino proposed on Christmas Eve…”

Nino chuckled. “Well, that was in front of her family. I actually did it the night before first.”

Alya chuckled. “Etta and Ella were too sad they’d missed it. And earlier today, his cousins insisted on getting a bit of practice on the henna for the real wedding.”

Marinette bit her lip, she might have been a little more offended if Adrien hadn’t appeared equally as shocked. He _definitely_ must not have noticed the ring. 

Not that he was the greatest at subtle hints.

Or the not-so-subtle ones.

“Look how gorgeous this is!” Marinette gushed over Alya’s ring. She grew silent, in astonished awe over the colors. “It’s such a pretty reddish-orange. Oh, and the way the stones beside it are a little lighter just gives it such a subtle radiance. You did a really good job, Nino!”

Nino flushed. 

“I mean, _I_ think so,” Alya chuckled, closing the distance between herself and her fiance. “But I’m a bit biased…”

Adjusting his cap to hide the growing flush on his face, Nino coughed. “It was a family ring. Though I did want to get a new stone setting for Alya, something that would make it more hers. I don’t really know anything about the stones… the jeweler said it was some kind of sapphire, but the color was what sold me...”

Marinette beamed, her eyes meeting Adrien’s fond gaze for only a moment. He’d been watching her. “You did a great job, Nino. I’m only a little sad I didn’t hear earlier.”

Alya cajoled. “Well, it wasn’t like I was able to reach you the other night.”

Marinette paled. “Sorry. I got busy.”

She was silent, but the meaningful eyebrow lift from Alya coupled with a sly smirk spoke volumes.

“Alya!” Marinette groused, her nose wrinkling up in distaste. Her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back into the couch. “You _know_ that’s not what I meant. My last shift just ran a little long.”

“Well, I hope you got overtime to stick around for so long...”

A secret smile curved her lips. “I think it was worth it…”

Alya grinned. “I hope so. I’d hate to think my Maid of Honor wasn’t getting absolutely everything she deserved.”

Marinette gaped at her, bouncing up onto her feet with all the unrestrained excitement she’d ever had when they’d first met. “Really?”

“Of course, girl!” She smirked, noting that she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. “There’s no one else I’d trust more with the job.”

* * *

Not long after Marinette headed back out into the snow, Alya and Nino retreated back to his room.

She didn’t dare to speak—or really, to _snicker—_ until he’d pulled the door fully closed. 

“Alright,” Nino glanced at her, curious. “What’s up?”

Alya smirked smugly. “I think your Best Man was eyeing my Maid of Honor more than the Christmas present I put together for him…”

* * *

“Go to sleep, Adrien.” Plagg groused, his tiny head nestled in the pillow.

Adrien sighed. He’d tried. 

Tried and failed _utterly_.

His mind just kept replaying the highlight of his night on endless loop. Marinette had the sweetest expressions on her face when she started to talk (in only the vaguest terms) about their night locked in the store together. 

He had never been so glad to be sitting down at the time; his heart couldn’t really handle much more.

But even now, his heart was still racing enough that sleep had proven elusive.

Adrien sighed, reaching out for the phone on the side table. Maybe he could play a mindless game for a bit and convince his brain to shut down for the night?

He hadn’t expected to see an email notification. 

From _LuckiestCharm_

Adrien bit his lip, barely stopped himself from giggling. He sat up in bed, eyes straying over to the bedside table, where a very familiar string of beads nestled in a small box of keepsakes on top of his dresser. _How_ was it possible Marinette was this cute?

‘Hello! Are we still on meet up tomorrow?’

Adrien’s fingers flew across the keys before he’d even thought much about it, popping over the chat function of the email service. ‘Of course.’

She had been typing for a while. Stopping and starting… and erasing it all.

He frowned down at the phone. ‘Did you have a particular cafe in mind?”

She didn’t make him wait as long this time. ‘About that… We’ve been pretending at being the heroes of Paris, right?’ 

‘Right…’ His brows furrowed. Where was she going with this?

‘So...I was thinking. What better place to meet than up there?’

‘Up there…’ Adrien puzzled, frowning down at his screen...until inspiration landed. His eyes widened. ‘You mean up on the Eiffel Tower?’

‘Yep. Maybe up on the observation deck?’

When he could finally manage to breathe again, Adrien responded. 

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, m’Lady.’

‘I'm glad. :) See you soon, Kitty!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE TO GO!
> 
> Alya's ring looks a lot like [this](https://rogersandhollands.com/jk-crown-3-stone-oval-orange-sapphire-diamond-ring?utm_source=google_shopping&gclid=EAIaIQobChMIyOCw36ig5wIVBZSzCh1QaQD3EAQYBiABEgI8sfD_BwE)!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kellarhi for beta reading.

Marinette had decided to travel light, carrying only her purse to finally meet Chat face to face. The bag was slightly larger than normal, since she needed one big enough to hold both Tikki and her present for Chat Noir—the _second_ present. She carefully nestled the gift to one side; a kitty ear hat for her faux partner. One that would match the gloves she’d already given him.

Tikki chirped warmly, flitting happily around her head. “Are you ready, Marinette?”

She inhaled deeply, lifting the purse onto her shoulder. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Tikki pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “For a little extra luck.”

Marinette nodded. 

As Tikki dove into her bag, she hurried down the stairs from her room.

Her mother was in the kitchen prepping a kettle of tea, already dressed for bed; she was clearly exhausted from the long day. And although they’d just finished dinner an hour earlier, Marinette could already hear her father’s loud snoring from the bedroom. Her parents had opened the shop early for a catering order for the mayor. Marinette had even come down mid-morning to help out so they could focus on the deliveries.

Her mother sighed. “I didn’t figure you’d be headed out so late. You’ve been so good about getting up early with that seasonal job.”

“I might have had a little extra incentive to get there on time.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I _kind_ of miss it.”

Sabine frowned at her daughter. “Marinette, I could swear you said your job was _stressful_.”

“Well,” She smiled fondly. “Not _all_ of it.

Her mother simply shook her head, ruffling her daughter’s hair fondly as Marinette leaned in to kiss her mother’s cheek. 

“Ack! I’ve got to get going!” Marinette gasped as she caught the time on the kitchen clock. “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t stay out too late, my dear. You haven’t entirely lost the rewards of all that hard work.”

“Not yet, anyways!” Laughing, Marinette hurried out into the evening, rushing towards the Metro.

She needed to leave now in order to arrive on time.

* * *

Soon enough, Marinette arrived at the esplanade, presenting her ticket on her phone when she’d arrived in the elevator queue. It was a little early, she knew. But she couldn’t afford to be late; she was even going to take the elevator up to the first floor, just to be safe. It had cost a little bit more but it would give her a bit more time to quell her worries. 

As the elevator lurched upwards, she gripped her bag tightly. 

As sweet as Chat had been, over the years and in the recent job, what finally swayed her was the fact that he'd now somehow managed to fall for her twice over.

The only real difference was that this time, she’d been ready—and willing—to fall right back for him…

There was no doubt in her mind that it was the right time to let feelings freely flow between them both…

If she truly was as lucky as she hoped, and… if he was as clever as she thought, Chat Noir would be able to add it all up.

To figure out just who she really was… and with that, how she really felt about him.

At least the butterflies at war in her stomach weren’t as vicious as the ones she’d grown far too used to fighting beside _him_.

* * *

Hands buried in his pockets, Adrien rushed up the stairs of the Tower. He wasn’t late, but the hour was much closer than he was comfortable with. Plagg stuck close, lingering in his jacket pocket.

He breathed a little more easily now than when he had started to scale the stairs between the ground and the tower’s lower floor, small bouquet of flowers in hand.

Plagg grumbled. “I don’t know why _she_ had to make it so complicated. You could have just met downstairs.”

“I dunno,” he murmured, wistfully, zipping his jacket up a little further. “It is a little crowded down there. Besides, I think it’s a pretty romantic choice from her.”

Even from up this high, it still looked a little crowded in the queuing space of the esplanade. This late, the best they’d been able to do was get tickets that were a few minutes apart. Meeting upstairs had been the simplest solution. And the stairs were a little bit cheaper… allowing him to save just enough to get her a small bouquet of roses from a nearby shop.

He’d even taken care to wear his nicest outfit, one that Marinette had complimented more than once, though she’d probably not known he was listening. 

Of course, he’d had to pull the sweater _over_ it so he could prove who he really was…

Since they were both going to meeting outside of costume—for the first time as far as she was concerned—Marinette really wouldn’t have any other way to know it was him otherwise. Even if _he_ knew his work partner was her.

Adrien was sure he’d thought of everything.

They even had the email as a fail safe. Though from what he could tell from the ground, the signal here wasn’t as reliable as he’d hoped. He was far too used to the miraculously reliable baton over the years...

Climbing flight after flight, Adrien kept replaying the secret hope he’d seen on Marinette’s face last night, especially when she’d seen just how happy Alya and Nino were.

He’d recognized that expression. He’d seen it often enough in the mirror every day for years now.

When she’d been talking about _him_ , Marinette had the sweetest smile on her face.

Hope had spurred his heart onwards. He tightened the grip on the flowers.

Adrien breathed easily, as the end of the stairway came into sight.

* * *

Once he reached the first floor, Adrien headed straight towards the queuing space for the upper level from the stairway on the East Tower. His ticket time for the elevator was only about ten minutes away. 

He peered around, scanning for a familiar face. Intuitively, he knew it would be highly unlikely, even with the holiday crowds.

But somehow, he was in luck, as he spotted a familiar hairstyle across the way. 

Marinette stood on the Skywalk, practically straight across the tower from where he was now. She leaned against the rail, peering up in wonder at the arches above.

His pulse raced, the hammering of his heart thrummed in his ears. Ecstatic, Adrien rushed around the crowds of people who gathered at the periphery, anxious to get to her side...

He rounded the curve, peeking across as often as he could to make sure she didn’t move before he got there.

He hadn’t exactly asked what her ticket time was; but now that he thought about it, Marinette moving over to catch the elevator suddenly felt like a very real possibility. 

He moved faster. Until he saw something that had brought him to a sudden, stunned halt.

Adrien hadn’t considered that Marinette would have moved into the arms of another guy in the process.

Gaping, he dazedly lurched forward.

From here, he could tell it was definitely Marinette.

It was very hard to tell just who she was hugging, especially with the poor light and distance. Even the pane of glass stood in the way.

It became all too clear once he could make out the clothes.

_Luka…_

Their old friend was there alone, hugging Marinette tightly.

Adrien felt the flowers start to slip from his grasp… but in his shock, he couldn’t bring himself to stop them with his usual rapid reaction.

He knew hadn’t been as close to his friends. Not as much as before.

Not after all his Father had done…

But he had been so, so certain that they had separated years ago…

But if that was the case, then why was Marinette was smiling sunnily, as she pulled back from the hug to gaze up at Luka?

Adrien turned, stumbling back out of her sight behind the nearest the metal beam.

Though he had avoided the elevator on the way up, he couldn’t help but feel a little motion sickness when it suddenly felt like the tower began to spin around him.

He scrubbed his hand over his face as doubt ratcheted up in his mind, and he felt Plagg burrow closer beneath the layers he was wearing, in a show of comfort. Adrien’s posture bent as he slumped back against the rail.

It hadn’t even _occurred_ to him that Marinette might be here for any other reason. Maybe he had been wrong all along… maybe Marinette _wasn’t_ there to meet up with him…

Maybe he had hoped _so much_ for the girl he’d been working with to be her, that he’d somehow managed to convince himself it was—and had invented reasons for it to be. 

It was just… even her words—her situation—all seemed to match up with what he knew about Marinette. With what he had thought he’d known about her history…

Maybe he’d just been fooling himself, all along. 

Forlorn, Adrien peered down at the ground. Sighing he scooped up the now sad looking little bouquet. It wouldn’t do to bail. 

Not now. 

If his partner from the mall was still some other girl, he still owed it to a friend to show up…

He’d _promised_ after all...

* * *

Marinette had been filing away possible plans of attack as she waited. There was no sense fretting. It would all come to a head soon enough, but if she could distract herself from her anxious nerves...

Besides, this was generally a level they avoided to let as many people as possible escape to safety when any Akuma struck. The plus side was that it provided one of the best views of the structure as a whole. 

She hadn’t been expecting a hand to land on her shoulder. “Now there’s a familiar face!”

Marinette’s eyes widened, and she slowly turned around. “Luka!” 

“Hey!” She smiled, more than willing to accept the hug he offered. “I wouldn’t have thought I’d run into you here. It’s been months, hasn’t it?” 

He smiled warmly. “Juleka and I were taking Mom out to dinner here at the Tower.”

She stepped back, peering around. “Are Rose and Kagami here, too?” 

He nodded, glancing fondly back over his shoulder. “The girls all decided to hit the restrooms in the restaurant before we all tried to catch the elevator back down.”

“Did you guys just get back from Japan?” Marinette inquired. 

Luka closed his eyes. “Just a few days ago, I guess? The time all seems a little fuzzy. But Kagami was really happy to see her Grandmother.”

“Oh, geez,” Marinette frowned, glancing fretfully down at her phone. “I really wish I could stick around and say hello to everyone…”

Luka’s smile softened. “Have plans?”

Marinette winced. “A timed-ticket in fact. I’m meeting someone up on the observation deck and I really don’t want to be late…”

Luka ducked back down to hug her again. “We’ll see you later this week, then?”

“Count on it!”

With a final wave, Marinette raced over to the queue. 

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself as she took the last elevator up.

Seeing a familiar face who had fought alongside them? It had only bolstered her courage.

She knew was ready for this. She _had_ to be.

The elevator doors opened. 

The crowd was gathered around the inside of the lower level. It wasn’t a surprise, not on such a chilly night. But she only peered around for a few moments before it was clear that there wasn’t anyone obviously waiting. 

Her fingers grazed over the purse and the present contained within, and she squared her shoulders as she walked up the final set of stairs.

She walked around three sides of the top most level. From what she could tell, there were very few visitors who had come alone. Mostly couples and a few young families. 

She’d nearly completed one circuit around the tower when she spotted blonde hair on a man standing by himself, leaning against the rail and peering out over the Parisian skies. 

She beamed, striding forward with every scrap of hard won, Ladybug confidence...

At least until a very familiar blue scarf threw her for a loop.

Gasping, Marinette ducked behind the nearest wall, well out of his sight. 

Her fingers fanned out over her breastbone, the dizzying euphoria swept out from under the tide of rising butterflies, leaving her with a lump in her throat.

_Adrien?_

She’d been prepared. Prepared for basically anything but _this_. 

Marinette inhaled sharply. She had only just been able to get Adrien out of her mind. To focus on Chat Noir…

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose to calm herself. 

She peered back around the edge of the stand, worried… watching, waiting. Her nails bit crescent moons into her palms.

In the wake of the final battle with Hawkmoth, she had already been holding a lot of guilt for her part in bringing down Hawkmoth. Only to have it all resurface all too keenly now. 

Marinette ran her fingers through her hair, as the wind whipped tendrils against her face.. 

Most of their friends believed Adrien had suddenly pulled away, after his Father had “retired” to the countryside; rather, they’d _let him_ pull away, without understanding why… though many of them had really been there when Hawkmoth was unmasked.

But… if _Adrien_ was her partner, that also meant that he’d been dealing with all of this as Chat Noir. _Alone._

Marinette nibbled at her lips, watching him more closely.

Adrien stepped back, gazing distantly out across the city lights, his gloved hand barely grazing the chilled metal of the rail. His jacket was drawn tightly closed against the frigid winds, as he pulled the scarf up higher to cover his ears.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. 

She had to be sure it was truly him—truly Chat Noir.

Marinette’s eyes darted around, doing a familiar sweep for inspiration. If the sweater wasn’t possible to see… then that only left the phone. 

Marinette tugged off her gloves to type out a quick message. ‘Did you make it here okay?’

She looked back up… but he was gone. 

Marinette rushed to where he’d just been standing only to come up empty. 

Frantic, she glanced around, eyes wide in growing panic.

* * *

Adrien tightened the scarf around his cheeks against the growing bluster. A dizzying flurry of wet snow spiraled, winding errantly to the ground.

This was a mistake. This was where he had hope…

Where his endless affection for Ladybug had started after all.

And now… it would also be where he’d gotten his hopes up to meet Marinette… and that had been an awful misunderstanding on his part.

That was bad enough… and his friend still hadn’t shown. 

It was too chilly to linger. He was much too used to being up here in magical leather. The scarf had only done so much…

He decided to head back downstairs and send her an email.

Head bowed, he stepped onto the elevator for the long ride down…

“Adrien!” echoed through the air. Just before the doors closed.

He looked up, only just gazing into those lovely blue eyes before the car pulled away. 

His hands shook as the car surged back down. There was hardly anyone better in Paris to know that the cars couldn’t stop until they’d reached the end. Not without a genuine emergency. 

The phone vibrated in his pocket. ‘Did you make it here okay?’

Wincing, Adrien struggled to type back a reply. ‘I think we must have just missed one another.’

His thumb hovered over the send button, as a rumbled shout rippled through the crowds.

“It’s Ladybug!” One of the smaller riders, announced to the car mostly filled with tourists.

Pocketing his phone, Adrien scanned around for the nearest escape. He wanted nothing more than to get out and transform… to rush back up to Marinette, no matter what he might have seen.

But if Ladybug was here… there was a threat here too. He needed to get his partner and lure whatever it was as far away from Marinette as possible.

* * *

As soon as he got off the elevator and was able to break free of the crowd, Adrien ducked behind a beam, transforming to catch up with Ladybug.

He had barely vaulted upwards more than a few beams back up to the top when Ladybug found him.

Chat was even more shocked when Ladybug half tackle glomped him and laid a big kiss on his cheek.

He backpedaled a little, out of her grasp. Confusion furrowed his brows. “Where is the Akuma?”

Ladybug tilted her head. “What Akuma?”

Chat shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ladybug. I _really_ need to get back up to the top of the tower.” 

She drew back, spotting the sheer desperation in his eyes. “What? _Why_?” 

He peered back up to the Tower’s observation deck. “She's waiting for me.”

Ladybug’s gaze softened. “Who, Kitty?”

“Marinette…”

Her lips curved upwards slowly, just as they did when she knew the battle was won. Beaming, she winked at him... "Well, it turns out, you're in _luck_..."

Slowly, Chat Noir met her gaze head on. Blinking, searching, she could practically see each of the mental gears click seamlessly into place.

“Marinette?” Chat Noir—Adrien, she corrected—breathed.

When she nodded, her own smile trembling slightly, Chat bounded in, hugging her for all he was worth.

Ladybug’s smile widened, and she hugged him back—just as fiercely—balanced on her tiptoes. “I never imagined it would be you…” she whispered into his neck.

“Is that a bad thing?”

She pulled back, only just enough to plainly see his face, one hand resting just over his heart. To gaze up into his eyes. “Never, Kitty.” Her fingers petting into his hair in the way she’d so often done, when he’d sought ought her comfort. Her reassurance. _“Never.”_

He beamed, sitting down in the chair. “I’m never usually this lucky…”

“Oh, I know Kitty.” She smirked… finally coming to terms with it. “That’s usually _my_ job.”

Chat Noir ducked his face down, pressing the nose of his mask neatly to hers. “Maybe I could borrow a little bit of luck?”

“ _Purr_ haps that could be arranged…” Her gloved fingertips traced lazy, comforting circles over the nape of his neck.

He flashed a smile, a sliver of gleaming white slashing through the growing night. Her only warning before he ducked a bit further, clawed gloves gently cradling her back as his lips met hers in the middle.

Ladybug breathed him in, relishing his closeness. Delighting in the soft, reverent pressure.

Until even that wasn’t enough. 

Chat Noir was being a little too gentle. It was clear that in his mind, he was kissing Marinette. Only, she was Ladybug, too. She had fended off, and defeated scores of villains at his side.

Determined, she stepped closer, stepping onto the metal toes of his boots to close the height gap between them. 

As she nibbled at his lower lip, he practically purred.

Even more so, when she wound both her hands around his shoulders, lifting herself up even closer. Rising up on her toes, she’d reapplied herself to her mission more forcefully.

When she eventually came up for air, Chat sighed. Half-lidded amusement followed, before his head tilted against her. “You know that’s going to end up on the Ladyblog.”

Ladybug laughed aloud. "Honestly, I can't think of a better present for Alya..."

"Not a present for you?" Chat—Adrien—leered. "Guess I'll need a bit more practice then..."

She pressed her finger against his lips, which he promptly pressed with another sweetly, tender kiss, using only the faintest pressure.

"So you came… even though you knew it was me?" Chat whispered, a little misty eyed.

"I came _because_ I knew it was you."

Ladybug’s hand reached down, letting her fingers entwine with his.

“Ah…” Chat Noir gulped, wordlessly peering down at their joined hands. He squeezed her hand, gently pressing his forehead to hers. His soft chuckle nearly carried away on the wind. “I was here because I was _so_ sure it was Marinette I had been working with…”

“ _Oh…_ ” she breathed, eyes widening. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. "Oh, my gosh… We're _ridiculous_."

“ _Utterly_ ridiculous.” He grinned, green eyes gazing directly into hers.

Ladybug groaned at his oddly nostalgic reference, bumping her free elbow against him.

That silly cat only smiled more broadly. "Honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way..."

“Me either,” she mused, watching in rapt fascination as he lifted their joined hands to gently press his lips to knuckles.

* * *

They cuddled up on the tower for another hour, ignoring the cold and nestling together as close as they could.

“We probably ought to head back down.” She finally murmured, shivering slightly.

“Do we have to?” Chat sighed, lips just inches from her ear. “I was just starting to get comfortable.”

She snorted. “Well, if you _don’t_ want me to give you your gift….”

“You brought me a gift?” His head lifted, watching her in awe. His kitty ears perked, standing at full attention. He blinked slowly. “You’ve already given me a few…”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Not that I really knew that at the time…” She shrugged, moving to stand beside him. “Of course, I might have made you something to go with those gloves I gave you.”

“Oh?” He echoed.

With a wicked grin, her yo-yo shot out into the night to find someplace safe for them both to detransform. 

Chat Noir followed. Just as he _always_ did.

The roof of the Trocadero would do nicely… 

The soft rush of pink and green was the only activity on the rooftop this late into the evening.

Grinning, Marinette reached into her purse, pulling out the far more subtle green wrapping paper.

He was just as slow to unwrap her present as he had been only hours before when transformed. Adrien gaped with mischievous joy when he’d spotted the ears.

Unrepentant, he tugged the hat onto his head, wrapping his arms around her again to lift her off her feet and spin her in joyous circles. “You can’t ever take this one back, you know.”

“I wouldn’t want to…” Marinette chuckled as he set her back onto solid ground. She rose up on her toes to tap his nose. “I know it was a little on the _nose_ ,” she smirked, “but I figured it was time for you to know. I just didn’t figure we would have missed each other...”

“Oh, no!” Adrien grimaced, raking a leather glove into his hair. “I’d nearly forgotten…”

“What?” Marinette frowned, her hand resting upon his arm.

His hands fell to his side. “I dropped your bouquet…”

Marinette smiled fondly. “You brought me flowers?”

Disheartened, his head fell backwards. “I _lost_ your flowers.”

A silly smile lingered on her lips, as she leaned against him. Wordlessly, he mirrored her actions. “I guess it’s _lucky_ I already have a rose from you at home. Well, two actually.”

“Two?” 

“Mmmhmmm,” Marinette smiled, tilting her head, watching as he did the mental math. “Mind if I ask what color you got me this time?”

Adrien flushed, tugging his hat a little further down over his eyes. “They were red, of course.”

“ _Oh?_ ” Her eyes widened, in undisguised wonder at his darkening cheeks. A shiver raced down her spine. “Were they _really_?”

Nodding, Adrien hugged her closer, purposely hiding his flushed cheeks. “C’mon. You must be getting cold. Let me walk you home.” 

She looped her arm in his, enjoying her slow walk home with the man she’d fallen for.

 _Three_ times over.

* * *

Adrien had kissed her at the door, ever the gentleman as he’d safely ushered her inside.

Marinette pulled back, pleasantly dazed at that final kiss. Even after the past hour or so, she was still not entirely ready to let _him_ go.

At least she wasn’t the only one so affected. Adrien had the silliest grin on his face as he leaned against the open doorway. “See you soon?” He whispered, pressing a furtive kiss on her forehead before he pulled away.

“ _Purr_ haps even sooner than you think…” She countered. 

“Really?” Adrien blinked. 

Marinette tapped her lower lip, fond mischief lighting up her eyes. “I was thinking about setting out an extra sweets up on my balcony for any of the heroes of Paris who might be inclined to drop in.”

The softest, sweetest smile curled across his lips, before he pressed them once more to her lips. "That sounds like a _purr_ fect idea."

"I thought so," she grinned.

After he stood back from the door, Marinette raced up the stairs. She needed to quickly (and quietly) raid the kitchen, before she headed up to her bedroom for the night.

After all, it _was_ cold outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may still come back and tinker a bit more with the end.

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely a multi-chapter endeavor. At present, the entire fic is framed out and is nearly 9,000 words. (I know myself...it will be quite a bit higher as I continue to flesh out further segments.) I do have a several chapter buffer and will be working on writing more over the vacation, so I intend to drop a chapter a day for as long as I am able.


End file.
